


Life Studies

by millenniumiv



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-02-14 12:02:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13007367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millenniumiv/pseuds/millenniumiv
Summary: When Shannon Clarke enters her seventh year at Hogwarts, she isn't prepared when she's suddenly positioned as James Potter's wife in the new class Life Studies.  Nor is she prepared to fall in love with him.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is posted on HPFF under the same title. I'm hoping to get it revamped and finished soon. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

“My brain is fried, positively fried, Shan.”

With a loud plop, Di sits in the chair in front of me, uncaring of the glares she receives from the other students occupying the library. Her short platinum blonde hair is ruffled, her jade eyes weary. I smile wryly. “Didn’t I tell you not to take so many classes this year?”

She bangs her head against the table. “Bite me.” 

I bite my lip, holding in laughter. “Was that your last exam for today?”

Propping her head against the table, she groans. “Yes.” Raising her head, she smiles brightly. “Actually, I think that was the last exam for this sodding year.”

“Now you only have to worry about next year’s N.E.W.T’s.”

Her gaze darkens. “Way to ruin the mood, Shan.”

I open my mouth to retort, but Headmistress McGonagall’s voice echoes through the castle. “All current sixth years please assemble in the Great Hall right away.” To make herself clear, she repeats the message two times before everything is quiet again. 

Di and I look at each other quizzically before we grab our things and shuffle out. We make our way to the Great Hall, Di swearing that if this is a surprise exam, she plans on quitting school when she turns seventeen in June. I listen quietly, grinning at her words because I know that she would never quit school; she’s far too studious and ambitious to quit. As much as she detests exams, she loves learning, which is why she’s a Ravenclaw, I imagine.

Sixth years are slowly filling into the Great Hall, all whispering and asking what’s going on. Headmistress McGonagall is ushering us in, ordering that we sit with our Houses and keep quiet. I stifle a groan. As much as I love my House, I don’t want to separate from Di. Shooting an apologetic look my way, Di stalks off to the Ravenclaw table and I turn to find an empty seat near the front of the Gryffindor table.

“There’s no need to sit huddled together,” McGonagall calls, strolling into the room. “You will need to spread out anyway.”

“Not another exam!” someone groans from the Hufflepuff table as I sit down.

“No, not another exam.” Coming to a stand beside a small woman in the front of the room, McGonagall is quiet until the room is silent. “This is Samantha Higgins. Next year, she will be known to the castle as Professor Higgins.” The woman, who appears to be in her mid-thirties, smiles. She has blonde hair that is pulled tightly into a bun. A few of my fellow Housemates whisper about how hot she is while others comment about how intimidating she looks.

McGonagall continues. “I am sure all of you are wondering what she will be teaching. Professor Higgins is your new Life Studies teacher. If you are taking more than three N.E.W.T classes next year, you will not be required to take this class. Otherwise, this class will be a requirement.” Looking closely, I notice the Headmistress doesn’t seem pleased about this; her mouth is a tight line as she speaks to us. “Each of you will receive a booklet that will tell you all you need to know about the class.” 

She quiets as the younger prefects begin passing out our booklets. They’re lavender and each has our name on the front with our House. On the side, they’re locked. “You will notice that they are locked,” McGonagall explains. “They will unlock when you return here for your seventh year. Now, the prefects are handing out a two-hundred questionnaire you each must complete.” 

“Oh, piss,” comes the voice beside me, belonging to James Potter. “She’s bloody insane.” 

“Insane,” echoes his cousin sitting opposite us, Fred Weasley.

“I assure you, Mister Weasley and Potter, I am not insane.” Voice hard, she continues. “You will get two hours to complete the questionnaire. And, please, refrain from simply marking answers at random. This questionnaire will impact your position in Life Studies next year – “

“- drastically,” Professor Higgins interrupts. 

McGonagall doesn’t look happy about being interrupted. “Yes, drastically. Now, start your questionnaire. You have two hours.”

Two hours later.

My brain is fried. I’ll be honest, I thought a two-hundred questionnaire about yourself would be fairly easy. I was wrong, dreadfully so. I finished three minutes early. Now I stand outside the Great Hall, waiting for Di to come out (they gave the students who weren’t yet finished extra time). From the looks of it, the other sixth years are just as exhausted. Some of the questions were easy while some required a lot of thought. 

“That,” Di comes walking out, her face lined with tension, “was the most exhausting thing I have ever taken in my entire bloody sixteen years of existence.” 

“I doubt it was worse than O.W.Ls,” I comment dryly as we make our way up the stairs leading to the first floor.

“Wrong. We had the option of studying for the O.W.Ls, Shan. The questionnaire required us to know ourselves and we were not given the chance to study ourselves weeks prior.” 

Of course, she’s right. I hadn’t given the subject much thought. Di has always been the one to think about things from a logical, more sensible view; I’m the one who thinks from an emotional view. “You’re right,” I admit, sighing. I peer down at her. “Are you taking three N.E.W.T classes next year to get out of Life Studies?” I’m not about to – I hope she isn’t. I don’t want to take most of my classes by myself next year.

“I dunno yet.” She frowns thoughtfully. “I’m not keen on taking a class like Life Studies, but I don’t want to pull my hair out next year studying for exams either.”

“How d’you know what the class will be about? They didn’t let us read our booklet.”

She snorts. “C’mon, Shan. Put two and two together. The class is called Life Studies. We were just forced to take a questionnaire about ourselves.”

I frown, coming to a stop. “Are you saying the class is going to be about…ourselves?”

Di groans. “Do you remember question five?”

I stare at her.

“The one about our sexual preferences?”

Immediately, I catch on to her theory. My eyes widen. “Er, yes. You don’t think…?”

Her face darkens and we continue walking. “Yes, I think. I’m fairly certain Professor Higgins is Hogwarts new, personal cupid.”


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weasley, who’s stretched out between me and James, looks at us all, his green eyes dancing. “You lot are well on your way to an outstanding score.”

Seventh year. First day of Life Studies.

Thankfully, we only have Life Studies two times a week – on Monday and Friday, both after lunch. I’m thankful for the gap, to be perfectly honest. Di, on the other hand, is not pleased. She has already told me multiple times today that she regrets not taking three N.E.W.T-level classes. With her new position as Head Girl and her two N.E.W.T classes, she said she wouldn’t have time for another difficult class, which was why she had decided to take Life Studies.

“Aren’t you excited?” I ask her as we make our way into the classroom.

“You’re insane if you think I’m going to be excited for a class that match-makes.”

I roll my eyes. “You don’t even know if your theory is true.”

“I’m almost a hundred-sodding-percent certain my ‘theory’ is true.” 

We take a table at the front of the classroom, Di practically throwing her bag on the table to show just how frustrated she is and how much she doesn’t want to be here. “Diana,” drawls a voice behind her, “you don’t have to throw things to get attention, love. You receive enough attention simply standing beside that ravishing friend of yours.”

“Bite me, Clark,” Di snaps, not even bothering to turn around. I pretend as though I heard nothing, placing my booklet, parchment, and quill in front of me. Clark Audley takes this as an invitation, walking in front of mine and Di’s table and resting his elbows in front of me, propping his lovely head onto his lovely hands.

“C’mon, girls,” he teases, green eyes glinting wickedly. “Give me an audience. I missed you two over the summer.”

“You missed annoying the piss out of us,” Di corrects, her glare never wavering. 

“If that’s what you want to call it.” With a careless shrug, he turns his attention to me, running a hand through his sandy-blonde hair. “What’re you doing the first Hogsmeade weekend, Shannon?”

I look at him, attempting my best cool expression. “You’ve asked me that question every Hogsmeade weekend since third year,” I say pointedly. “And my answer has always been the same.” 

Clark doesn’t flinch. Sod. “One day you’ll answer differently.” As Professor Higgins takes her stand in front of the classroom, Clark throws me his best grin and stalks off. Di makes an impatient noise beside me as she glares at Professor Higgins. I sigh. 

“Welcome, class!” Just as she had last year, Professor Higgins wears her blonde hair in a tight bun. She reminds me of one of those naughty librarians you see on television with her icy eyes, strong bone structure, and – dare I say it – seductive lips. The boys, I take it, immediately like her. Perhaps some girls as well. “I know most of you are wondering what exactly this class is.” Some students make impatient noises, Di included.  
“Life Studies,” she continues brightly, “is the class that will help you most during your time here, as well as during your time in the adult world. I’m not going to bore you with any details yet because you will need the rest of your time in here to start your work.” Some kids groan at this. 

“Anyway. Unlike your other classes, this class will provide you each with different experiences. You will each be given experiences adults go through – marriage, divorce, the birth of a new child, getting fired from a job, amongst many other situations. How you react to each obstacle will determine your scores on exams. The questionnaire you took last year determines your obstacles and whether or not you are married and who you are paired with.”

Beside me, Di smiles bitterly; she loves and hates that she was right. No one in the room speaks – we’re all too shocked and scared and nervous to say anything. Clearly Professor Higgins is thrown off by our silence. She clears her throat and makes a swooping motion with her wand. “So, your booklets are no longer locked. You are only capable of seeing the first page – the other pages will be presented as you go along with the course. Go on, look in them.”

Di practically tears her open and, when she sees her first ‘challenge’, she swears under her breath. I ignore my booklet and lean to look at hers. “What’d you get?”

She begins banging her head against the table. “I’m in a relationship with Clark Audley. Clark-sodding-Audley.” Behind us, Clark swears loudly. Di shoots him a look before thrusting my booklet at me. “Open yours. I can’t be the only one who’s going to be miserable this year.”

I open mine slowly. Brown eyes quickly scan over the page. “Nooooooo,” I whisper, resisting the urge to join Di and begin banging my head against the table. Di hears my whisper and looks up, alarmed. “Who’d you get?” Grabbing the booklet from me, her jade eyes widen. “How in the hell did that happen?” Not bothering to hide her astonishment or lower her voice – how did she become Head Girl with language like that? – she turns to look at my “boyfriend”, who’s expression is as equally shocked.

James Potter.

……

“Let me get a few things straight, Clark. Simply because some fucked-up questionnaire thinks we’re compatible enough to be in a relationship, doesn’t take away from the fact that I loathe you.”

“Got it, love.”

“Also, don’t call me ‘love’ or any other pet name that small little brain of yours can think of. There will be no kissing, touching, or sex in this fake-relationship. Is that clear?”

“Clear as sodding crystal.”

“Good.”

We’re sitting beside the Black Lake: Di, Clark, Fred Weasley – who’s one of the singles -, James Potter, and I. We’re all tense and in shock. James and I haven’t said a word to each other, both preferring to remain quiet. Di and Clark have both expressed their dislike for each other and Di has set some boundaries. I wonder if I should do that? It hardly seems needed considering James doesn’t seem intent on making our “relationship” work and I’m not about to start. 

Weasley, who’s stretched out between me and James, looks at us all, his green eyes dancing. “You lot are well on your way to an outstanding score.”

“Shut it, Weasley,” Di snaps.

“Feisty.”

“Watch it, that’s my girlfriend you’re messing with,” Clark pipes in, looking well on his way to either laughing or running away.

“Piss off, the both of you.”

I’m not sure why I do it, but I suddenly look at James, a slow grin spreading across my face. To my surprise, he meets my brown eyes with his hazel. He’s just as amused and shocked as I am. We lock eyes for a few seconds before hastily looking away. He sighs loudly and runs a hand through his black hair. “As much as I hate to say this, we have work to do and arguing will get us nowhere.”

This brings Di back. “Of course. Being surrounded by four Gryffindors has clouded my judgment.”

“I think you mean my godlike looks have clouded your judgment.”

Before Di can bite off Clark’s head, I speak up, “Let’s get with our respective partners and answer these questions – without arguing.”

Weasley doesn’t bother moving from his position between me and Potter, which I’m thankful for. James and I have barely spoken in our seven years of attending Hogwarts. He has always been the untouchable Gryffindor golden boy while I’m the shy Gryffindor with self-esteem issues who once fancied Potter quite passionately. To make matters worse, he was my first-kiss as result of a muggle game, “Seven Minutes in Heaven”, during our fourth year.

At the thought of those hellish seven minutes, my face flames. Hopefully James has forgotten it, but something at the back of my mind tells me that he hasn’t – how could he forget when I threw myself at him? As far as I know, only he and I know about what happened in the closet in the Gryffindor common room. He was probably too traumatized and embarrassed to tell someone. Thinking back on it, I don’t blame him.

I fumble with my paper, a “Getting to Know Your Partner” questionnaire. “Okay, er, what is your favorite color?”

Potter, seemingly unaware of my direction of thoughts and my blush, cocks his head to the side and grins mischievously. “Is black a color?”

“No,” Di replies across from us.

Potter sighs dramatically. “Red, then.”

I resist sighing. As much as I would love to finish our homework, I don’t feel up to it. Being around so many people and attempting to focus on work is hard and I would love to take a walk around the grounds before going to dinner. I begin gathering my things. “I’m going to take a walk.” I look down at Potter. “We can meet up to finish this before Friday, right?” As much as being alone with him sounds daunting, I’m too restless right now to care.

Di looks ready to drown me in the Black Lake. Clark stands immediately, seeing this as his escape to get away from Di, no doubt. Potter looks shocked – and confused, his eyebrows pulling together quizzically. “Of course,” he says.

“I’m coming with you,” Clark says, grabbing my elbow and stirring me away from the group, studiously ignoring Di’s swears and Weasley’s laughter. 

I jerk my arm from his strong grasp. “You could have asked first, you know.”

“I hardly need permission to take a casual stroll.”

I roll my eyes. “No, of course not.” I position my bag on my other shoulder – it’s surprisingly heavy. “But you said you wanted to walk with me –what if I hadn’t wanted you to take a causal stroll with me?”

“Are you saying you did want me to?” he retorts, grabbing my bag and hoisting it effortlessly over one of his shoulders. I consider grabbing it back, but my shoulder is sore and not having any weight on it feels nice. 

“No.” 

“You’re bloody confusing, Shannon.” 

“And you are bloody annoying, Clark.”

“It’s all out of love, love.”

I roll my eyes. “You wouldn’t know what love is if it paraded in front of you every day.” I jab him in the ribs with my elbow. “And stop calling me love.”

“Ouch.” He mock glares in my direction. “Your words wound me, Shannon.”

We step through the main entrance and walk in silence. It’s funny. Clark has been known as one of Hogwarts womanizers since his fifth year, yet his attention in me has never wavered. Before asking any girl out, he has always asked me out first, since third year. When I was younger, I rejected him because I had always assumed his interest was that of mockery because I’d been overweight. Even now, when I’m healthy and moderately attractive, his interest remains intact. “Clark?” 

“Yes?”

“Why are you so persistent?”

He peers down at me, grinning. “Because I almost always get what I want.” He tells the password to the Fat Lady and we walk into the common room. “And when I don’t get what I want I become all the more determined.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him why he’s so determined to date me, but I grab my bag from his shoulder and shake my head. “You’re tiring.”

“You have no idea, my love.”

I fight off a grin. “Lovely.”

“What’re you doing this weekend?”

I give him an obvious look. “You already asked.”

He shrugs. “Doesn’t hurt to ask again, right?”

“I suppose it doesn’t,” I say thoughtfully. 

“You know, it wouldn’t hurt you to go out with me at least once.”

An impulsive urge grabs me. “I suppose it wouldn’t.”

His eyes widen. “Is that a yes?”

“I suppose it is.”

Smiling at his shocked face, I turn and make my way up to the girls’ dormitory. If I can get Clark to stop chasing me, I’ll have a decent seventh year. If he’s all about the chase, he will soon find himself disappointed. And, really, I don’t see why he would chase me for anything but the chase of it all. This year is going to be a breeze, I’m sure of it.


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What kind of human doesn’t eat chocolate?”
> 
> “Health-conscious and lactose intolerant humans?”

There are some things in life a girl is supposed to be naturally good at. At least, that’s what my mum has always told me. Learning to put makeup on is one of those things. Knowing what to do in case of a wardrobe malfunction, that’s one. Having a “style” of your own, that’s the main one. Having a style has many sub-categories: what to wear to your first dinner with your boyfriend’s parents, what to wear to seduce someone, what to wear on a date.

I seem to be lacking a style of my own.

My dorm is empty – all of my dorm mates are already gone to Hogsmeade. My hair is pulled into a messy bun at the back of my neck. My makeup is finished. Clothes are thrown about the room. Despite the fact that I’m supposed to meet Clark in the common room in fifteen minutes to go on our date, I’m not ready; I don’t even have clothes on. I’ve paraded around my room in my red underwear, nervous and shaking, for the past thirty minutes. Di was supposed to be here to help me and she’s not here. Maybe if I hadn’t set my alarm to wake me up two hours early this morning, I wouldn’t be thinking so much, but everything is going wrong.

Di isn’t here to help me and I have no idea why. What if Clark is playing a prank on me? What if he ditches me? Why isn’t Di here? I know she was confused about me agreeing to go on a date with Clark, but she didn’t seem angry. Breathing heavily, I stand in front of the bathroom mirror. Years ago, I wasn’t the person staring back at me; I wasn’t healthy, I wasn’t happy with myself. I’m still changing and becoming comfortable with myself. Sometimes it helps to not think so much. I breathe evenly now. Di will be here; she’s never let me down before. 

The door to the dorm opens. A shaky laugh escapes me. “Di! Thank God you’re here!” Brushing a stray hair out of my face, I step back from the mirror and turn to Di. “I have no idea what to -” 

I lock eyes with James Potter.

“ – oh my God.” 

His eyes are the size of saucers as they take me in. Neither of us moves. I’m too shocked to move and he’s…I don’t know why he hasn’t moved his eyes from my chest. His next words bring me out of my shocked state, “Red is definitely my favorite color.” Heat rushes to my face and I scramble to my bed, conscious of every move I make and his eyes still on me as I throw my robe around me. 

“What are you doing here?” I snap, rounding to face him. “How did you get up here? Boys aren’t allowed up here!”

James’ hazel eyes are amused. “I came to get Sara’s jacket. And, Shannon, surely you know there are ways to get around that rule.”

Of course I know there are ways around the rule, but that doesn’t stop me from cursing my luck that James knew the way around it and used it to get his date-of-the-day’s jacket and ended up stumbling upon me in my underwear, panicking about a date I’m certain will end terribly. I groan. “Well, good luck finding her jacket in this mess.” I kick through my clothes on the floor. “Why didn’t she come get it herself?”

“She’s saving our table at Madame Puddifoot’s.”

Despite myself, I bite back a smile. “Right. Okay, I’m going to find something to wear in this mess, since Di obviously isn’t going to show up. While I’m doing that, you can go through Sara’s stuff to find her jacket. Her bed’s ov- “

“I know where her bed is, Shannon,” he laughs, carefully stepping over my clothes and towards Sara’s bed, the one across from mine. “Why are you so worried about your choice of clothes? Just wear whatever you’re comfortable in. Trust me, Clark will think you’re lovely either no matter what you wear.” 

Carefully bending to sort through my blouses on the floor, I groan. “I should’ve known he wouldn’t keep our date secret.”

“What did you expect? He’s been trying to date you for years.” He grins at me wryly. “Not many girls tell him no. You would have saved yourself years of taunts and teasing had you gone out with him the first time.”

“Excuse me for having boundaries.”

James’ grin widens. “Clark’s persistent, Shannon. He saw something…special in you and he chased you. He’s never done that for another girl.”

“Stop justifying his actions, James.” I glance up to where James is leaning across Sara’s bed, trying to open her drawer. “You can break through the spells the castle has against boys coming into the girls’ dorm, but you can’t open a simple drawer?”

He glowers at me. “It’s harder than it looks.”

“Apparently.” I toss a green blouse to the side. “Why would she have her jacket in a drawer anyway?”

“I dunno! I don’t see a Gryffindor jacket anywhere else in her junk.” He sighs impatiently. “Do you have any idea where it is?”

“I can’t even pick my own sodding clothes out – why would I know where her jacket is?”

“You’re a lot of help.”

“Oh, it’s my pleasure.”

He rises up. “Let’s make a deal. I’ll help you find something to wear if you will help me find her jacket. Deal?”

I think for a moment, and then, “Deal.”

Moving from his seat on Sara’s bed to a more uncomfortable position on the floor, James begins looking through my clothes. He discards khakis and tank-tops. He reaches for a shirt beside my leg, his hand brushing the thin fabric of my robe and causing it to slide away. The small movement causes my earlier blush to resurface. I rush to resituate my robe again. 

“Sorry,” James says, his lips twitching slightly. He holds out a simple, short-sleeved red top. “I like this one. It’s simple, yet not uncaring.”

“But it’s red.”

“Pardon me for pointing out the obvious, but your underwear is also red and I don’t see you cringing at the thought of wearing it on your date.”

I glare at him. “Because Clark isn’t going to see my underwear on our date! Red draws unwanted attention…” I trail off, unwilling to say anything else because I know that, no matter how innocent whatever I say might be, it will probably be taken in another context with James and our previous run-in.

Grinning, James holds the shirt out to me. “Either you can sort through all these clothes another hundred times or you can take my advice and wear this.”

I groan and take the shirt. “Okay, but I need pants to wear with it. I can’t go on my date with only a shirt on.”

“I’m sure Clark wouldn’t mind that.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m going to put this on while you hunt for a pair of jeans. Hurry!”

Closing the bathroom door behind me, I smile. In the span of fifteen minutes, James Potter has seen me in my underwear, I have argued with said Potter, and I am now taking clothing advice from him. Peeling the robe off me, I slip the red shirt on, the soft fabric caressing my skin. The shirt is fitted and shows off every curve I possess from the waist up. I have to admit, James knew what he was doing when he picked this out. “Having any lucky?” I call out.

“Uh, yeah!” he calls back, his footsteps getting closer to the bathroom door. “Here, try these.”

Through the crack of the door, he hands me a pair of dark skinny jeans. I hold back a sigh and slip them on. My mum had talked me into buying them over the summer and had apparently packed them with my clothes. I’d intended on forgetting I owned the bloody things. 

A knock on the door shocks me out of my self-pitying reverie. “Shannon, you okay in there? Merlin, how long does it take you to put clothes on?”

Groaning, I open the door. “They’re tight.”

“That’s how they’re supposed to look.” He bites his lip, as if trying to conceal his amusement. “Besides, they look good on you.”

I don’t have much of a choice in wearing them. Either I can stress for another two hours about my clothes or I can suck it up and just wear them. I’m not even sure why I feel the need to impress Clark. “Okay, whatever. Let’s just…find Sara’s jacket, okay?”

…

“I have to admit, Shan, I was beginning to think you were going to stand me up.”

Clark’s tone is amused, but his eyes are serious as they give me a once-over. He holds the door open for me and I walk into Honeydukes. “I was just…having trouble picking out what clothes to wear,” I answer, biting my lip as I glance up at him.

He smirks down at me, his emerald eyes losing their serious touch. “I figured as much, although I don’t see why you’d have trouble finding clothes. You look amazing in anything.”

“What a flatterer you are.”

Clark laughs, his fingers reaching up to grasp my elbow. The contact surprises me and I move to retract my elbow from his grasp, but he rolls his eyes and says, “Relax, Shan, I’m merely steering you in the right direction.” With his free hand, he points to the chocolate section of the shop.

“You could’ve told me where to go,” I grumble, allowing myself to be led. “I’m more than capable of walking.”

“I know you are.” He removes his hand from my elbow, leaving a tingly sensation in his wake. What does that mean? Where’s Di when I need her? “Have you ever tried these?” Clark asks, waving a box of chocolate frogs in front of my face.

I cringe back. “Uh, yeah. When I was younger.” I smile sheepishly. “I don’t eat chocolate now, though.”

“What kind of human doesn’t eat chocolate?”

“Health-conscious and lactose intolerant humans?”

He throws his hands in the air dramatically, shaking his head mournfully. “Shan, my love, you are difficult.” He flashes me a smile. “But that’s why I like you.” He nods toward the rows of chocolate before us. “Now which of these d’you want?”

I shake my head. “None of them.”

“C’mon, Shan! Pick one. Please, for me.”

Clark gives me a pleading look, his emerald eyes wide and begging dramatically. “Nope, no chocolate for me,” I laugh. 

His lips pucker out in a pout. “Just one box?”

My eyes narrow. “I’m beginning to think you want to buy a box for yourself, Clark…” 

“Who, me? Never! I’m shocked you’d think such a thing, Shannon Clark.” 

“Mmhmm.” I grin up at him. “I suppose I wouldn’t mind a box of caramel-filled chocolate frogs,” I say decisively.

Clark throws his hands up and yells, “Thank the heavens! She relented!” His hands falling to his sides, he winks at me. “I knew you’d give in, Shan.” 

I merely roll my eyes, deciding not to comment. I’m sure I’ll be kicking myself later, when I have a box of chocolate frogs at my disposal, but for now I’m happy. We purchase a box of twenty-four frogs and make our way to The Three Broomsticks. The whole way there, Clark and I talk about small things: the weather and chocolate frogs. I listen intently, finding myself smiling non-stop. One can expect Clark to make the most boring subjects interesting.

Once we’ve taken our seats at The Three Broomsticks and have ordered, I peer around us, keeping an eye out for Di. I frown when I see no sign of my short, blonde best friend. Where is she? Why didn’t she come to my dorm this morning? It’s not like her to stand me up. 

“What’s wrong, Shan?” Clark asks from across me, his eyes narrowed.

I bite my lip nervously. “It’s Di. She was supposed to help me get ready this morning and she didn’t show up.” I sigh. “I haven’t seen a sign of her. It’s not like her to stand me up.”

“Maybe she’s studying or catching up on homework?” Clark suggests.

“Maybe,” I admit, although it isn’t like Di to do homework on the weekend; she usually has it completed the day it’s assigned to her. I don’t want to complain to Clark, though, so I decide to let the subject of Di pass.

Clark and I sip our butterbeers in silence comfortably. He watches me closely and I watch the people around us closely. I open my mouth to ask him why he’s staring at me when our waiter brings our food; me a salad and him an arrangement of cooked meats. Clark laughs when he sees my salad. “Shan, that’ll hardly hold you over for a few hours! Why didn’t you order something more…appetizing?”

“Um, this’ll hold me over until dinner.” I shrug and take a bite of my salad. “I don’t see how you can eat half of that,” I retort, pointing toward his plate of food.

“Ah, I’m a man, Shan – I could eat a bear and still be hungry.”

“You’re insatiable, that’s what you are.”

Clark’s lips twitch into a wicked grin and he raises his eyebrows suggestively. “Indeed I am.”

I snort. “For the love of Merlin, eat your food.”

We eat in silence, with Clark making the occasional off-hand comment and me making a wry remark. Why did I stress so much about this? It’s perfectly…normal, easy. I had originally thought going on a date with Clark would be painful and uncomfortable, but it’s proving to be the complete opposite: easy and comfortable. I made an impulsive decision and, for once, it hasn’t come back to bite me in the arse.

Clark pulls out the box of chocolate frogs when we’re finished. “Time for dessert,” he announces, opening the box slightly. “All right, Shan, you have to make sure you hold the frog firmly and eat it quickly or else it’ll hop away and we’ll be kicked out of here forever.” He thrusts the box toward me. “Ladies first.”

The refusing retort on the tip of my tongue dies and I reach forward and grasp a frog firmly. It jiggles in my hands and I laugh. “It’s been years since I’ve had one of these,” I admit, watching Clark grasp his own. We eat them quickly, the caramel sticking to my teeth and making it difficult to swallow. “They’re as amazing as ever,” I sigh.

“They’re bloody amazing,” Clark agrees, licking a spot of caramel from his lip. He notices me watching and smirks. “Enticing, huh?”

I look away, blushing furiously. No, I had not just stared a bloody hole through Clark. And, no, he hadn’t noticed. Sweet Merlin. “Just…let’s eat another?” Before he can speak, I reach forward and get another frog – just as Clark does at the same time. Our hands bump and I drop my frog. It hops onto Clark. His hand jerks, opening the lid to the box completely and unleashing the rest of the frogs.

I gasp and clamber to shut the box, but it’s too late: half of the frogs are already hopping around the table. One hops onto Clark’s head, while another finds its way to his face. He looks so completely ridiculous – I laugh. At first, it’s a giggle, but then it transforms to a loud, obnoxious laugh.

“Bloody hell! A little help here!” he calls, aggrieved.

My hand covers my mouth and I shake my head, unable to respond.

“Shan! Damn you, get them off me!”

People are looking at us now. I laugh harder.

“What a lot of help you are.”

I stand and walk toward him, giggling all the while. I remove the one on his head with shaking heads. He opens his mouth and I obediently place the frog on his tongue. “W-where are t-the rest?”

“In my shirt,” Clark sighs. 

Just like that, my amusement is gone. “I’m not sticking my hand down your shirt.”

Clark stands and the waiter from earlier runs toward us. His eyes are wild. “Get outta here, you two! You’ll have this place filled with those bloody things – get out!”

Clark and I look at each other and burst out laughing. We comply, however, and leave (not before paying). Outside the door, Clark releases his shirt and six frogs hop out and make their way down the street, hopping happily. Clark clutches the box of saved frogs protectively, laughing. I lean against the window, clutching my stomach. 

“I can’t believe we were kicked out,” I gasp.

With his mirth under control, Clark nudges me playfully. “Bet you feel like a real rebel now, don’t you?”

Wiping the tears from my eyes, I nudge him back. “You know it.”

“C’mon, let’s take a walk.”

We move and Clark puts his arm around my shoulders with ease, glancing down at me questioningly. In response, I wrap my arm around his waist. It feels good to have his arm around me. We walk back to the castle in silence and his arm eventually slides down to take my hand in his. My hand feels warm in his own and I squeeze his.

He lets me walk in first into the common room. A few younger students are there, playing games and finishing homework. Clark pulls me to a stop and we face each other. 

Oh my God, we’re going to kiss.

His hand on my waist, he pulls me closer. Smiling, his other hand tips my face toward his and, before I have time to process what’s happening, his lips are on mine. They’re warm and soft and my stomach flip-flops in response. Just as quickly as it happened, it’s gone. Pulling away, he looks down at me. “I had a great time, Shan.”

“Me too.” My voice is quiet, almost dazed.

“We should do this again.”

I finally manage to meet his eyes. They seem impossibly green and bright. “Yeah, I’d like that.”


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Stop what?” he asks innocently. 
> 
> Looking up, I see his grin widen. “Looking at me like that.”
> 
> “Like what?”
> 
> “Like…like you’re secretly amused by all of this.”
> 
> “I’m not secretly amused, Shannon; I am openly amused.”

“So, Shannon, how’d your date go?” James asks, taking the seat to my right. 

The class is slowly filing in for a new day of Life Studies. “Why didn’t you ask me at lunch?” I question, eyes narrowed. “I sat with you lot – you had plenty of opportunities.”

“I didn’t want to ask you in front of Clark because I already know his tale of the date,” James answers smoothly. He grins slyly. “He really liked your outfit, by the way. Thinks red is your ‘color’.” 

“You didn’t tell him you chose it, did you?” Merlin, what would Clark think if he knew James saw me in my underwear? Of course, there’s no reason that he should be angry, but still…

“Nope. Figured I’d give you all the credit. You should thank me.”

I roll my eyes and begin setting my class materials out. “I’ll get right on that.”

“Oi! You didn’t tell me how it went!” James exclaims, scooting forward to shoo my hands away from my quill and parchment. 

“It went…well,” I say, sighing. It went really well, actually – but I don’t want to be open about it just yet. Not until I talk to about it Di first. 

“That’s all? Just ‘well’?” he deadpans.

“Fine, it went really well!” I snap defensively. Why does it matter to him anyway?

“Sounds exciting.”

I glare at him. “It was exciting. And nice. And…it went well.”

James rolls his eyes. “Clearly.” He sighs. “Since it’s obvious that you aren’t going to get to the heart of things, I am: do you fancy Clark?”

I sputter, my eyes wide. What did he just ask? Do I fancy Clark? Merlin. That is the very question I’ve been asking myself since our date – and it’s another reason why I need to speak to Di. She might not be experienced when it comes to dating, but at least she gives great advice. James Potter, however, is the last person I expected to talk about my date to. 

“I-I don’t know,” I grumble, my cheeks hot. “Why?”

I hear his chair scooting towards mine. His hazel eyes peer at me curiously. “Are you blushing? Blood hell, you do fancy him!” He sounds shocked.

“So what if I do?” I glare at him. 

He shrugs. “Clark wanted me to ask you.”

“You better not tell him anything.”

“Whoa, whoa. Calm down, Shannon. I won’t say a word. Promise.”

He sounds sincere, but that doesn’t stop me from feeling paranoid. Why didn’t Clark just ask me himself? He’s certainly been straightforward up until this point. It doesn’t make sense. I’m certain Clark would just ask me himself if he wanted to know. I decide to let that matter go. 

Behind me, a chair scoots and someone sits in it. Di - that’s the table she shares with Clark. She doesn’t bother talking to me. Why? Her sudden offstandish behavior certainly doesn’t make sense. I want to know what’s bugging her and I want to talk to her about my date. Merlin, I just want to talk about my date. Glancing to the boy beside me, I realize I just had an opportunity to talk about it and I threw it away. Go, Shannon.

Biting my lip, I inch closer to James. He notices this and glances my way, raising an eyebrow in question. “We kissed,” I blurt in a whisper.

He bursts out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” I snap, not at all liking the looks we’re suddenly getting looks from the few other students in the room. Even Di looks at us for a moment before turning away.

His laughter subsides, James looks down at me, grinning. “You looked so innocent. It was like…kissing is a sacred thing.” 

His look is knowing – clearly he’s thinking about my first kiss, which was with him and was result of a game – and I blush. “Well, I-he’s the second person I’ve ever kissed and I really…liked it.”

His eyebrows knit together. “That’s good, Shannon. Kisses are meant to be liked.”

“I know that. It’s just…I felt different. Is that…normal?”

I can’t believe I’m talking to James about this. Weeks ago, we never spoke a word to each other. Now he’s my “boyfriend” for a class and I’m suddenly confiding in him. I’m not sure what it is, but I feel like I can trust him. To an extent, at least.

“Different how?”

“Like…I felt warm and…tingly. And…yeah.” I break off, blushing. Thinking and talking about the kiss brings the warmth back, though it’s not as strong, and the butterflies in my stomach resurface. 

James looks thoughtful for a moment. “That’s normal if you fancy someone, Shannon. Since you fancy Clark, I’d say that it is, indeed, normal.” 

I nod and lean back to a position which doesn’t involve invading James’ personal space. I can’t believe I just asked James for advice, let alone relationship advice. And he didn’t patronize me. Huh. 

“Thanks for…listening,” I say, turning to give said boy a small smile. “And for the advice,” I add hastily.

If James is surprised, he doesn’t show it; he merely shrugs and grins. “No problem.” 

The class is full now and Professor Higgins stands up from her desk, assuming an air of confidence and authority. She strides forward, demanding our attention. “Students, students! I have a surprise for you.” Beside me, James groans. “Thursday, you will begin your journey with your ‘partner’. If you’re one of the few single students, you will mingle with the other single stude – “

“What do you mean by ‘journey’?” Di asks sharply from behind me. I glance back to see her glowering at Professor Higgins. Beside her, Clark looks equally displeased. 

Professor Higgins glares at Di, not at all liking being interrupted. “What I mean is that you will start the hands-on portion of this class, Miss Collins.”

“By ‘hands-on’, do you mean…” Clark asks, his tone suggestive and amused.

“I mean that you will not be working in your booklets as much, Mister Audley!” Professor Higgins snaps. “Now stop interrupting me, before I give you both detention.”

Di snorts behind me and Clark chuckles under his breath. Professor Higgins continues. “If you will open your booklets, you will see that a new assignment has been given to you. Most of you will go on a makeshift ‘date’, while others will work together completing a task. It all depends on your compatibility levels, which only I can see.

“Also, I highly suggest that you get to know your partner better. There might be a test coming up, testing you on your partner. That is your in-class assignment for today: get to know your partner better. If you’re partner-less, open your booklet and get started on the assignment it presents you.” And with that, Profess Higgins turns and walks to her desk, not leaving room for questions. 

“She is such a bitch,” Di seethes from behind me, gaining my attention.

“Di, can I talk to you after class?” I ask, turning around.

Suddenly, she looks nervous, her blue eyes wide. Her bottom lip is caught between her teeth roughly. “Uh, sure, Shan. But I don’t have a lot of time, okay? I have some duties to do and…yeah.”

Is she avoiding me? Why would she avoid me? Is she uncomfortable because I went on a date with her fake boyfriend? That wouldn’t make sense, considering she detests Clark, but I can’t think of any other reason why she’d be angry with me. “Uh, okay. It’ll only take a sec.”

Her head moves in a nod and she grows quiet. I look at Clark and he winks at me, grinning wolfishly. “When can I have a second with you, Shan?”

“Uh, after Di?” I answer feebly, blushing.

“Sounds good to me.”

Turning around, I let my head drop, trying in vain to hide my blush from James’ keen eyes. I can practically feel him grinning at me right now. Ugh. Why does he find my being uncomfortable amusing? “Stop that,” I mumble, trying to keep my voice low from Clark’s ears.

“Stop what?” he asks innocently. 

Looking up, I see his grin widen. “Looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like…like you’re secretly amused by all of this.”

“I’m not secretly amused, Shannon; I am openly amused.”

I groan and roll my eyes. James leans closer to me, so that when he whispers only he and I can hear: “He’s gonna ask you out again, by the way. It’s why he wants to talk to you after class.”

I nod. “I figured as much.” 

Strangely, the idea of Clark asking me out again doesn’t scare me. It makes me nervous, yes, but I already know my answer and…I feel okay about it. I’m still a bit wary, but not as much as I was. I try not to overanalyze Clark and our budding ‘relationship’ too much as James and I talk, getting to know each other, as Professor Higgins had suggested. 

Talking helps, considering we talk until it’s time for our next class. James leaves, but I stay behind, walking up to Di. “Hey, are you…okay?” I ask gently.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well…it’s just…you missed my date Saturday and we’ve hardly talked for the past few days…”

She sighs deeply. “I know, I know. It’s just…being Head Girl is taking its toll on me, you know? I suddenly have shitloads of duties and…yeah, it’s stressful.”

Her eyes dart back and forth as she talks; she doesn’t quite meet my gaze head-on, like she normally does. She’s hiding something, but I can’t imagine what it would be. She doesn’t seem concerned about telling me whatever it is, though, so I don’t press it. “I understand,” I answer softly, smiling. “Don’t let the duties stress you out too much, okay? And if you ever need help, just come to me. You don’t have to carry everything on your shoulders, y’know…”

“Yeah, I know.” Slinging her bag across her back, she smiles. “Thanks, Shan. I’ll see you at dinner.”

Gathering my things, I walk behind her and into the corridor. Leaning against the wall is Clark, his emerald eyes on me as I walk toward him. “So, you wanted to talk?” I ask. 

“Let’s walk and talk, shall we?” He slides his arm across my shoulders; his arm is warm and I snuggle into him after a moment. “I had an amazing time at Hogsmeade,” he starts, his fingers absently rubbing circles on my shoulder. “And I was thinking…we should do that again. Go on a date. Have another amazing time. What do you think?”

“That sounds like a good idea to me,” I answer, smiling.

“Brilliant! What do you say…picnic at the Lake? Or is that too cliché?”

I laugh. “It’s not too cliché.”

His hand cups my shoulder and squeezes. His lips brush my forehead in a fleeting kiss. “I’ll let you decide when it’ll be this time, love. Just tell me when and I’ll be ready. Until then, I have a class to get to.” Removing his arm from my shoulders, he walks away. I find myself missing the contact, the warmth, as I watch him go. My forehead tingles where his lips kissed it. Smiling, I walk to the common room, thinking of the perfect day for a picnic at the Lake.

…

Wednesday night

Wrapping my blanket around myself, I snuggle deeper into the sofa, a yawn escaping my lips. It’s late – James and I have been questioning each other for at least two hours now. The common room is empty, with the exception of us. James is in the sofa across from mine, looking equally as tired as I feel.

“I’m so tired,” I sigh, yawning once more.

“Me too. Fred and Clark should’ve been here by now.”

“Why do they want us to wait up for them anyway?” I grumble. I barely know Fred, so I don’t see the point in waiting until midnight for him to enter the common room. I do, however, need to speak with Clark, which is why I’m waiting on him. 

“Hell if I know,” James answers, shrugging. “Let’s go over some questions to keep us awake, shall we?” I nod, my hand cupping my head as I lean onto my elbow. “Okay, uh, so your favorite color is orange, right?”

“Right. It changes every so often, but for now it’s orange. And yours is red.”

“Yep. Your least favorite class is Potions.”

“Accurate. And yours is History of Magic.”

“Aye, aye. You have two siblings: a ten year-old brother and a one year-old sister.”

“Yeah. You also have two: Albus, a fifth year, and Lily, a third year.”

“Yeahhh. Speaking of family, I should probably write my parents. I haven’t written them since starting school.”

“Really? Why not?” James is close with all of his family, which much I know from merely observing him and his interactions with his various cousins over the years. 

He shrugs. “It slipped my mind, I guess. I’ve been busy organizing things for Quidditch and working on school work.”

“Ohhh. I see.” I yawn again, just as the common room door opens and Fred and Clark step inside. Fred is wearing an idiotic grin while Clark smiles as he walks toward me. 

“Nice pajamas, Shan,” he snickers, his eyes roaming from my leg hanging lazily off the couch – therefore, out of the warm protection of my blanket – to my top. I’m wearing crimson and gold flannel bottoms and a red t-shirt with a lion on it. 

“Thanks,” I mutter as he sits beside me.

“What’s so important that you couldn’t have told us tomorrow, at a reasonable time?” James asks, yawning.

“I have a girlfriend,” Fred exclaims, sitting beside Clark. “Camille Connor, sixth year Hufflepuff. Has blonde hair and is really short and cute.”

“…And you had to inform us now?”

“I wanted you to be the first to hear the great news. Plus, she’s going to be hanging with us for a while, considering she hardly has friends and all. Didn’t want to spring a random girl on you and all.”

“Bloody hell.” Nevertheless, James grins. “That’s brilliant, though. I look forward to meeting this lovely young lady.” He stands and stretches, causing his shirt to rise, revealing a trail of hair under his navel. If he’s shocked at Fred’s sudden relationship status, he doesn’t show it. “However, my arse is going to bed. I have a date with Life Studies tomorrow.” With a wave, he walks upstairs.

Fred rolls his eyes. “I guess it’s my bedtime, too…” He stands and gives Clark and me a suggestive look. “Remember: everything that happens in the common room must be PG-13 or under. Can’t have a first year walking in on a rated-R situation, got it?”

Clark laughs and my eyes widen. I open my mouth to scold Fred, but he’s already walking away. “He…he’s crazy,” I mutter.

“That he is,” Clark agrees. He snakes his hand into mine. “Have you thought about our date?”

“As a matter of fact, I have.”

“Mmhmm. Pick a day yet?”

“Yep. Friday evening sound good?”

He squeezes my hand. “Sounds brilliant, love.”

We both stand, our hands intertwined while I hold my blanket in the other. “Red looks good on you, Shan. You should wear it more often,” he says softly, bending to kiss my cheek. Strangely, I’m reminded of James’ so-called ‘fashion’ advice from the other day.

“I’ll remember that,” I answer, smiling before I turn and make my way upstairs.

…

The next day

When I enter the Life Studies classroom, it doesn’t look like the classroom I normally walk into on Mondays and Thursdays. It’s completely changed. On one side of the room are round tables with candles floating above them. A soft melody is playing throughout the room. On the other side of the room is a long table, which I’m assuming is for the singles in our class. On the far side of the room is a buffet.

“Sodding hell, were we supposed to dress formally?” asks a voice from beside me. James comes to a stop and gazes at the room with wide eyes. 

“Uh, I hope not,” I answer. “Professor Higgins would’ve warned us beforehand if she had wanted us to, I think.”

We move forward, toward the rounded tables, trying to find our ‘reservation’ card on one of them. James finds it on a table with three extra chairs. “Looks like this’ll be a double date with a third wheel,” he says, sounding relieved. I can’t say I blame him.

I sit beside him. Despite the ease with which we have interacted for the past week or so, this feels awkward. It feels awkward and wrong. It’s supposed to be a date, yet I’m in the process of thinking through my feelings for one of his best mates. James breaks through the silence. “I wonder who our, uh, guests or whatever will be…”

“I dunno. Is there another reservation card?”

We glance around the table and, sure enough, on the inside of our card are the names of our ‘guests’. I sigh in relief. Thank Merlin. Di, Clark, and Fred are our guests. At least this won’t go by painfully now. James waves someone toward us. The chair beside me scoots and Di sits down, looking relieved. “Thank Merlin I won’t be alone with Clark,” she sighs.

Clark sits beside James. “What kind of date is this?” he asks. “Not that I’m complaining, but we’re the only ones getting the special treatment…”

“I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough,” James answers. 

Next comes Fred. Clark calls him over to us and he sits with ease between Di and Clark, looking pleased with himself. “Looks like I’m the only Single mingling with couples,” he remarks. “I do believe this means trouble in paradise, my young lovers.”

“Yeah, don’t hurt yourself thinking too much, Weasely,” Di snorts.

“Never knew you cared about my well-being, Collins.”

“Shut it.”

We lapse into an uncomfortable silence, none of us quite sure what to expect. If what Fred says is true and he is meant to cause ‘trouble in paradise’, then that means the interactive part of this class is really starting, which makes me uneasy. Is he meant to cause trouble for James and me or Di and Clark? What kind of trouble? What kind of date is this? 

“I see all of you are here.” Professor Higgins enters from her backroom, her hair down in a cascade of blonde waves. With the exception of her hair, she looks as strict and rigid and beautiful as usual. “I know some of you must be confused about your predicament right now, but I’m at no liberty to explain to you why.” She seems pleased. “You will find out soon, believe me. However, I am here merely to oversee the evening.

“Menus will be passed around now.” With a flick of her wand, menus are floating about the room, making their way to each table. “Simply touch whatever meal you would like and the rest will be done by house-elves in the backroom. Or, if you’d rather eat buffet, it is here for you also.” Her lips curve into a smirk. “Enjoy yourselves.”

Menus fall into our hands and I survey mine with a frown. Nothing on it is healthy or follows my diet. I sigh and allow my menu to float away. “I guess it’s a good thing I ate lunch,” I say. 

“Why’s that?” James asks, touching a meal on the menu and watching as his menu floats away. Fred and Di are in line at the buffet, while Clark is peering at his menu with keen interest.

“Nothing on the menu follows my diet,” I answer.

“Ahhh. Maybe the buffet has something you can eat?” he suggests helpfully.

I shrug. “I’ll see when Di and Fred are back. Di knows what I like.”

“C’mon, Shan, there has to be something on here you’ll eat,” Clark says from across me.

I fidget uncomfortably. “Actually, there isn’t.”

“Well, you can disregard your diet once, can’t you?” he presses.

Di and Fred arrive back, each with a plate full of food. “Was there anything at the buffet I can eat?” I ask Di, hoping to get Clark off my back.

She shakes her head. “Nope. Sorry, Shan.”

Clark groans. “Come on, Shan. It won’t hurt you to get something a little unhealthy.”

“If she doesn’t want to eat, she doesn’t have to,” James’ voice cuts through, surprising us all into a moment of silence. Fred and Di peer between James and Clark and I can’t help but wonder if Clark will retaliate.

As expected, he opens his mouth, but Di interrupts him, her mouth full with mashed potatoes. “Mindferownfuckin,” she swallows, “business, Clark.”

He glares at her and she meets his glare with equal hostility. “You mind yours, Diana.”

“She’s my best friend, so fuck you.”

“Yeah, well, she’s my girlfriend, so fuck you.”

“Calm gown, guys,” Fred cuts in, amused. “Let’s not start a war over Shannon’s eating habits.”

He’s the only one to find this amusing, however. The tension surrounding the table is thick, with Di and Clark glaring at each other and me glaring at them both and James’ jaw set in a hard line. I thought Fred was supposed to cause trouble – not me. “Both of you, stop it,” I hiss in a whisper, not wanting to draw attention to our table. 

Clark turns his glare onto me. It’s like a slap in the face. “I’m not stopping anything until you eat.”

“She ate at lunch, for Merlin’s sake. Let. It. Go.” 

Emerald eyes turn to James’ hazel eyes. “Mind your ow – “

“Clark.” My voice is hard. “Stop being so forceful. I already ate. I’m not hungry. Stop trying to tell me what to do.”

“Yeah, let it the fuck go,” Di growls.

We grow quiet. Fred and Di’s eating are the only sounds being made at our table. James’ food has arrived, but he doesn’t touch it. I sip on my water to occupy myself, wishing this class was over. Finally, Clark speaks. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“It’s okay,” I answer immediately. The tension between us withers like that and I give him a small smile. He turns to James next. “Sorry, mate.”

“S’all right,” James says easily.

Clark turns to Di next, opens his mouth, and then closes it.

Di smirks. “Yeah, I’m not sorry either.”

I shake my head at the two, smiling despite myself. How will they survive this year? I can’t help but wonder. Fred is watching James with uncharacteristically concerned eyes. “Eat, mate,” he says, nodding in the direction of James’ food.

James shakes his head. “I think I’m gonna take it to the common room with me.” Fred looks ready to press it, but his cousin shakes his head once, which stops him short. James must still be upset about his small spat with Clark, I realize. Fred notices it. 

We continue the rest of the class in silence. When it’s over, Professor Higgins tells us to get on with the rest of our day; we’ll know the ‘results’ of our dates soon enough. Di and Clark have another class, so they head off to it, leaving James, Fred, and I behind. I want to talk to James, but he says he has to be somewhere, leaving with his boxed-food in hand.

“Is he…all right?” I ask Fred hesitantly, watching his retreating form.

Fred watches him go, his eyebrows knitted together. “I think so.” He bumps his elbow with mine. “I think it frustrated him a bit to see Clark trying to make you do something you didn’t want to do.”

A groan leaves my lips. “Great. I don’t them to be angry with each other because of me.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Fred says simply, like it’s the easiest thing in the world to forget one’s worries. “James has a hard time getting over his anger, unlike Clark.”

“I noticed that.”

Fred laughs. “Seriously, Shan, don’t worry about it. James’ll be okay.”

I nod and smile. Fred probably knows James better than anybody, so why shouldn’t I listen to him?


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don’t sound so sad.” She kicks me in the leg. “This is the beginning stage. We haven’t really started yet. Save your sadness for future reference, Shan.”

I pop a chocolate frog into my mouth and snuggle deeper into my bed, placing the wizard card that came with the frog onto my stomach. Di’s going on about Life Studies from her perch on the foot of it; she’s been going on about the class for the past ten minutes. My way of tuning her out is to eat. Not healthy and perhaps a bit hypocritical of me, but what can a girl do? 

“Who’d you get?”

“…What?”

She huffs impatiently and bends forward, causing my bed to shift, plucking the newest card off my stomach. “Harry Potter? Again? Bloody hell, you’d think his card would be uncommon or some shit.” She waves dramatically toward the other Harry Potter cards placed on my stomach (with the exception of a few Draco Malfoys). “I’d give an arm and leg for a Granger.”

“Didn’t you have one a few years ago?” I ask, thinking back to when Di used to collect the cards and trade them with a small group of students.

“Yes,” she grumbles, sitting back. “But I lost it.” Picking up her notebook, I assume she’s about to start rambling about Life Studies again. Oh dear. “I have a theory about Fred Weasley and the role he’s gonna play in our little…family,” she announces.

“I’m all ears.”

She takes in a deep breath. “Okay, so, here’s what I know: he’s one of the Singles, he was the only single added into a group date, and there’s a fifty-fifty chance he’s meant for Clark and I or you and James.

“He’s obviously compatible, for lack of better word, with James and Clark, considering they’ve been best mates since first year. They all know each other well, so of course it’ll be easy to pit them against each other or, perhaps, with. Now comes the hard part.

“Speaking from a logical standpoint, I would say you and Fred are more compatible. You balance each other, sorta like you and Clark, I guess? He and I have a lot in common, but we would butt heads a lot, y’know? And that doesn’t work well for me, as you can see with my already-failing fake-relationship with your soon-to-be-boyfriend. But I really don’t know who he’s meant for.”

I blink a few times, processing all this information. Clearly Di has thought more about this and is noticing a lot more than what I am. Should I pay more attention to things? What Di’s saying sounds true, though – it sounds logical. Fred is going to play a big part in either or both of our Life Studies’ relationships. Hell, we all might play a part in each other’s relationships. Suddenly this class doesn’t seem as easy and simple as before.

“Your theory sounds right,” I groan. “Sadly.”

“Don’t sound so sad.” She kicks me in the leg. “This is the beginning stage. We haven’t really started yet. Save your sadness for future reference, Shan.”

“Don’t make it worse!”

Eventually, she helps me pick out an outfit to wear tonight, for my date with Clark: a black fitted t-shirt with jeans. I casually mention how James had helped me choose my outfit for my previous date when I notice Di’s royal blue eyes become alight with…something. “Did you notice how pissed he got at Clark Thursday?” she asks suddenly, leaning against the bathroom door as I straighten my hair using my wand.

“Yeah…I asked Fred about it, actually. He said James has issues with Clark trying to control people,” I answer slowly.

“Mmm, that makes sense. When you analyze Clark, James, and Fred and their personalities, Clark and Fred are most alike. I mean, they’re all alike, but Clark and James are the most different. Clark is somewhat controlling and idiotic while James is arrogant and idiotic.”

“Are you saying Clark isn’t arrogant?” I ask, laughing.

“Well, no. But when I think of his main flaws, his arrogance isn’t the first thing I think of.” I watch through the mirror as her eyes narrow thoughtfully. “He readily apologized for his actions the other day, didn’t he?”

“Mmhmm.”

“While James did accept his apology, he still acted stubborn and refused to eat and stormed off after class.”

I sigh. “Di, you’re reading too much into this.”

“You’re not reading enough into this, Shan.”

Finishing my hair, I set my wand down and start applying makeup. “I’m not reading into it because I don’t see anything worth reading into.”

“Because you’re so damn stubborn that you refuse to!” She cuts me off before I can retort. “Listen, this whole Life Studies program changes with us, get it? It’s meant to make us closer to whoever we’re partnered with. If you and James become close while you’re dating Clark, that’s going to cause ‘marital’ problems for our groups.” Di makes dramatic gestures in the air, her eyes wide. “Add fucking Fred into that and you’re a buffet.”

Pausing the application of my eyeshadow, I mull over what she just told me. It seems logical, reasonable, and I can’t stop myself from believing her. No matter how much I don’t want to. That’s the problem with Di; she’s always right because she always thinks things through.

I groan and turn to face her. “Look, what you’re saying sounds right. I have to give you that. But I do think you’re reading too much into the James-Clark fiasco.” 

My best friend grins, happy to have won at least one argument, and shrugs. “Hey, suit yourself. I’ve always been right before, though, haven’t I?” she reminds me, as if I need to know. 

Soon, Di leaves and I’m given time to myself before my date with Clark. I clean up the dorm, gathering my thoughts as I do so. Maybe I should start viewing Life Studies from an analytical point of view. It would (potentially) prepare me for what’s to come. But the thought of knowing what’s to come is what scares me, is what makes me block my mind to most of Di’s theories. I work much better not knowing. Besides, if I overthink – and I tend to do so when my imagination runs wild – I can’t stop. And I hate overthinking.

But what if what Di implied is true and something more is going to happen with Clark and James? And it would inevitably involve me. Things could certainly go that way, considering I’m in the process of dating Clark and am in a fake relationship with James thanks to Life Studies. Add Fred into the mix and, like Di said, I am a buffet. 

Sweet Merlin.

I am not going to let Life Studies dictate my life – it’s a class I go to twice a week, for Merlin’s sake! It can’t have that much control over one’s life. I wonder how it’s effecting the other students…I’ll have to ask around. It’s a class and nothing more. It may be meant to change one’s life, but I’m stubborn and I’m not going to let that happen.

Sinking onto my bed, I can practically hear Di chastising me in my head, “Really, Shan? You’re gonna ignore the obvious? The class has already changed you. In a matter of weeks, you’ve become friends with James Potter and Fred Weasely. If that’s not enough proof, I dunno what is.”

With an indignant huff, I stand, grab the picnic basket with the food for tonight and leave the room.

…

“Look what I brought us,” Clark announces proudly, brandishing a bottle of fire whiskey.

I’m snuggled into my blanket beside him; he’s snuggled into his own. We just finished our small meal and I suppose Clark found it appropriate to share the booze now. “I’ve never drank that before,” I say awkwardly, eyeing the bottle as if had eight legs and four eyes.

He chuckles. “I figured as much.” He rises. “Besides, it’s not like we’re going to drink the whole bottle. We’ll just sip it.”

I shift nervously. “Yeah, you can sip. I think I’ll pass.”

“Are you worried we’ll get caught?” he asks before taking the first drink of the whiskey.

“Well, yeah. That and the fact that this is only our second date and I’ve already caused you to resort to drinking…”

Clark snorts and passes the bottle to me. “Relax, Shan. It’s not the real deal – it’s juice from the kitchens. The bottle was, uh, the only thing I had to put it in.”

Still suspicious, I tilt the bottle forward and sniff. Sure enough, the scent is sweet, yet not alcoholic. I take a cautious sip from it. “Okay, okay,” I laugh. “Thanks for giving me a scare.”

He holds his hands under his head and grins up at me. “No problem, love.”

Placing the bottle between us, I lie down. “What poor soul had to down a whole bottle of fire whiskey just to get me a bottle of juice?”

“The sixth year Gryffindors.”

“How noble of them. I’m sure they didn’t mind.”

“Nope, they didn’t.”

We’re quiet for a while. It’s peaceful, lying side-by-side, hearing nothing but the sounds of nature and the breathing to my right. The night is beautiful, especially the Lake. I could fall asleep out here easily. A breeze blows by and I instinctively curl into the blanket Clark brought for me. 

“You cold?” Clark asks, opening his blanket, inviting me in.

I nod and, my heart racing, I accept his embrace, my head resting upon his arm. His other arm pulls me closer towards him, bringing our faces inches apart. Our eyes hold for a few moments before I lean forward, kissing him. He responds readily, his lips warm and inviting. 

After a few moments, he pulls away. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” 

Much to my displeasure, he leans back completely. I rest on my elbow, peering down at him curiously. “For being an arse Thursday. I shouldn’t have acted so controlling. I should’ve let it go. And I was a complete tosser to James.”

“You already apologized.”

“I know,” he sighs.

I lay my head back onto his chest and he wraps his arm around my shoulders, squeezing me against him. “It’s just – I thought you were, I dunno, uncomfortable eating around everyone else and that was why you were refusing to eat. And that’s why I was pushy.” He chuckles. “It annoyed me when you kept refusing, so when James butted in I ju – “

“Clark, it’s okay,” I cut him off firmly, amused. “Just don’t do it again, okay? If I ever want something, know that I’ll get it myself.”

Clark grows silent, dropping the subject, thankfully. I’ve never seen Clark so earnest and distraught over something – all I’ve ever seen him act is arrogant, charming, and teasing. It’s new and unsettling. Thinking back to Thursday’s events brings a small detail of the day in mind.

“You called me your girlfriend Thursday,” I mention coyly.

He shifts beside me. “I did.”

“I don’t recall you asking me to be your girlfriend.”

“Ah, yes.” Suddenly, his head is above mine, his emerald eyes staring into mine. “Sooo, will you be my girlfriend?”

“Yes,” I answer, before bringing his lips down to mine. 

…

The morning air is crisp, biting – the way I like it. It wakes me up. ‘Slaps me in the face’, so to speak. When I step onto the grounds in the morning and stretch to prepare myself for my morning run, the morning air gives me an extra boost. If it were not for that extra boost, I would probably pass out on the ground when stretching. 

I pull my hood up, and then pull the strings tightly. When I get a little warm, I won’t have to worry about becoming cold. I jog down the grounds, pacing myself. I jog the length of the Black Lake, quickening my pace gradually and letting my hood fall in the process. Pace yourself, Shannon, I remind myself. Breathe. Don’t push yourself too hard. Take it easy. 

The next time I come, I muse, I should bring Di. The mental image of my short, stout, sour best friend jogging at the crack of dawn is amusing. I’ve tried coercing her into eating healthier, but she’s stubborn. I remember her distinctly telling me that the only things she truly cared about in life were intelligence and loyalty. Can’t hate a girl for thinking like that.

When I feel like I’ve had enough (when I’m sweaty and it’s hard to breathe), I slow to a jog, then to a walk. My breathing goes back to normal quickly. This is good; I’m getting better. I walk towards the Quidditch pitch and notice two figures flying around. Today is the Gryffindor team’s try-outs! James and Fred must be here early to set things up. Why they decided to have try-outs this early, I don’t understand. Abuse of power, perhaps? 

“Having fun?” I call, walking on the Pitch and feeling incredibly small. It’s huge.

They notice me and stop mid-flight, before flying downwards. “Someone’s an early bird,” James notes, shaking his head.

“You here for try-outs, Shan?” Fred asks, confused. He blinks a few times. The mornings don’t do him any favors mentally, I notice.

“Noo. I was just getting in my morning run,” I explain, suddenly aware that my appearance is probably proof of my previous activity. I run a hand through my hair helplessly, probably doing more harm than good in fixing the loose ponytail.

“Yeah, I saw you while I was flying,” James says, nodding. “You’re getting better.”

I raise my eyebrows. He’s seen me run before? That’s odd. If he thinks it’s odd, he doesn’t say or indicate anything, though. “Oh, uh, thanks,” I say. “Why’re you all holding try-outs so early, anyway? Isn’t it a little – extreme?”

Fred grins slowly, as if awakening with each passing minute. “Hey, gotta take the potential newbies down a notch somehow.”

“Yep. Build ‘em up, knock ‘em down,” James pipes in.

“That’s a bit extreme,” I laugh.

“Keep saying ‘extreme’, Shan; it awakens me more and more.”

“I’ll get right on that, Fred.” I smile slightly. 

“I’d love to stay and chat, but I have co-captain duties to attend to.” Fred stretches and cracks his knuckles before turning to walk away. He flashes me a smile before he walks away. “See ya, Shan.”

“Bye, Fred!”

James and I are left alone. For a moment, we stand in silence, with me looking at the ground and him looking at something interesting behind my shoulder. Finally, when I turn to walk away, he blurts, “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry?”

“No, I am.”

“What…for?”

He groans, bringing his hand up to scratch his face nervously. “For…being a nosy tosser? For being stubborn? For…I dunno. I’m just sorry.”

His hazel eyes are pleading and a bit sheepish, like a boy awaiting his mother’s okay. It’s almost adorable. I grin. “It’s okay, James. Don’t worry about it.”

“…You sure?”

“Yeah. I was never angry with you anyway,” I admit, a little thrown off guard by his apology.

“Ohhh. Well, okay,” he says, breathing a sigh of relief, his hand falling from his face. His lips twitch into a grin and he pats my shoulder. “Make sure to tell me if Clark’s ever a git to you, okay? He usually listens considerably well to me.”

I snort and roll my eyes. “Don’t worry, I will.”

I walk to the castle, happy and energized, a broad smile on my face.


	6. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Did you see that, Shan?” Clark exclaims, slinging an arm over my shoulder as we walk into the common room. He squeezes me to him. “We were bloody amazing!”
> 
> “You were,” I agree, giddy and grinning like an idiot. I can’t help it – all of Gryffindor is celebrating. “I loved watching you.”

One month later

The air is thick with excitement and tension. It’s the first Quidditch game of the season – Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff. We all watch as the two teams warm-up, flying around and tossing Quaffles to and from each other. I watch the Gryffindor team with pride; they’re good, a lot better than what they were last year. Hufflepuff doesn’t stand a chance.

“I wish they’d hurry up and start the blasted game,” Di growls from beside me, her crimson and gold face paint cracking with her scowl.

“They have to warm-up, Di,” I remind her, readjusting my ponytail. “They can’t just go out there and play. They have to be warmed up or else the chance of injuries increases.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know all that. But still.” She huffs impatiently. “Hasn’t James been practicing his team every morning for the past month? That sounds like it’d be enough warming up for me.”

“Well, yeah,” I mutter. James and his team have been practicing every morning while I’m running since September. I often watch them practice. “It’s just…Never mind. Let’s just watch the game.”

Soon, the game begins and the announcers begin their commentary on the game. I’ve been to only few games because, until this year, Quidditch had never interested me, so I listen intently. Clark and James explained to me the basics earlier, but I still feel the need to listen to the commentary to make sure what I’m seeing and hearing are right. 

“Shan, are you even watching the game?” Di demands, slapping me across the arm.

“I’m listening!”

“How about you watch it?” She suggests, grabbing my chin and jerking it forward. “What’s the point of coming if you aren’t going to watch your boyfriends kick arse?”

I’m about to roll my eyes and ignore her when I catch on to her last words. “My what?”

She merely smirks and points toward the Pitch. “Watch the game.”

“ANDDDD AUDLEY HITS THE QUAFFLE INTO THE GOAL, SCORING TEN POINTS FOR GRYFFINDOR!”

My head snaps from Di to Clark and I join in with the other Gryffindors in cheering. Clark catches my gaze momentarily and grins before turning to fly away. I watch him eagerly, my eyes unmoving from his retreating figure. He’s an amazing Chaser; he’s quick, aggressive, and agile. And he enjoys being a Chaser – when he’s finished with practice, our conversations usually revolve around him gushing about his position and me listening, hanging onto his every word. I love seeing his emerald eyes light up when he talks about something he loves so much.

“He’s amazing, isn’t he?” I say to Di, my eyes still remaining on Clark.

I can feel her shrug beside me. “Eh, he’s all right, I suppose. The whole Gryffindor team looks pretty good, not gonna lie.”

“Yeah, James was really picky about who he picked for positions,” I explain, turning my gaze to the player in question. “He wanted to play on their strengths and weaknesses. His dedication surprised me.”

“He’s not the brainless boy you cracked him up to be, huh?” 

Why does she sound so smug? I turn to her, glaring. “What’s your deal?”

Di grins slyly and raises her hands in an innocent gesture. “Nothin’.”

“Sureee. You’re the one who thought he was brainless,” I say indignantly.

“I know,” she admits, shrugging. “I thought a lot of things.”

I huff and turn from her, deciding to ignore my best friend and whatever game it is she’s trying to play. She’s doing what classic-Di does, I remind myself: she forms a theory, then tests it in various ways to prove it. Her “theory” being a potential love triangle between James, Clark, and I thanks to Life Studies; her “testing” being observing my reactions to each of the boys.

Bloody crazy, I tell you.

Pushing those thoughts out of my head, I turn to the game. My eyes wonder to James; he’s guarding the three goal posts, his face determined. Unlike the other players, who are more relaxed and easy-going during the game, James is rigid and hard. This would’ve surprised me a year ago, when I had barely known him, but now it seems…natural. James takes Quidditch and his roles as Keeper and Captain very serious and when he’s serious about something, there’s no time for being relaxed.

A Hufflepuff Chaser attempts hitting a Quaffle inside the outer left goal and James moves sharply, bringing his hand up to catch the Quaffle. The crowd cheers, but this doesn’t seem to affect him; he throws the ball back into the game and stares forward as he did before. My eyes are glued on him curiously, admiring the grim determination in his hazel eyes, the hard line of his jaw.

“ARIA HORNBY, GRYFFINDOR’S NEWEST SEEKER, CATCHES THE SNITCH. GRYFFINDOR WINS.”

Slowly, almost reluctantly, James smiles and his hardness melts away. I find myself smiling with him, almost feeling his happiness. 

A light punch on my upper arm snaps me back to reality. “Take a picture and it’ll last longer,” Di says, smirking.

“Shut up.”

…

“Did you see that, Shan?” Clark exclaims, slinging an arm over my shoulder as we walk into the common room. He squeezes me to him. “We were bloody amazing!”

“You were,” I agree, giddy and grinning like an idiot. I can’t help it – all of Gryffindor is celebrating. “I loved watching you.”

Removing his arm from his shoulders, Clark grins down at me. “I loved knowing you were there. I don’t recall seeing you at many of our previous games.”

I shrug and sit on one of the sofas in the common room, scooting to make room for him. “I never had a reason to attend them.”

“Fair enough.” 

Clark slides in beside me, claiming his spot. The younger Gryffindors are all bustling around the common room, decorating it crimson and gold. The rest of the team, sans Clark, stayed at the Pitch to clean up. Clark sneaks his arm around my waist, tugging me into his side. “You need to shower,” I remind him with a laugh, pushing him slightly.

He chuckles and stands. “I can’t argue with that. I won’t be gone for long.” I watch as he walks up the stairs to the boys’ dorms. At the head of the stairs, he turns and winks in my direction. “Don’t miss me too much, love.”

“I’ll try not to,” I call back, rolling my eyes.

He disappears into the seventh year dorm and I turn around, watching absently as the room becomes filled with various decorations the younger years could think of to use. A few minutes pass and James enters the common room, alone. His dark hair is still wet from his shower and his t-shirt clings to his damp chest. The younger students begin working anxiously, throwing cautious glances in his direction. If he notices them, he doesn’t show it; he grins and sits beside me. “What’d you think of the game, Shannon?”

I smile. “It was nice. I enjoyed it.”

“I imagine you and Di were our biggest fans today.”

“I doubt it,” I laugh. “You know how Di is and I didn’t focus much on the game.”

He raises an eyebrow in my direction. “You didn’t? What’d you focus on, then?”

I shrug and smile sheepishly. “The players. You all are interesting when you’re serious.” I fail to mention how I watched him in particular.

James frowns. “You think so? Some of the players didn’t seem serious to me…” He sighs. “I’ll have to talk to them at the next practice.”

“Let me guess, it’s tomorrow?” 

The corner of his mouth tugs upwards. “How’d you know?”

“Practice makes perfect, right?” I bump my shoulder with his playfully. “Besides, I know you’re not going to let one win go to your team’s head.” 

“You know me well,” he admits, smiling broadly. “Will you be coming to any of the practices?”

“Yep. As long as my legs are functioning for my morning jog.”

His smile broadens before it drops and his eyes roam around the room. “Where’s Clark?”

I jerk my thumb in the direction of their dorm. “Taking a shower. I tried telling him he should stick with the team, but…” I shrug. “Where is the team?”

James relaxes beside me, throwing an arm around the seat. “Still showering. They’re determined to look their best for the celebration.” He chuckles. “We’re a vain team – can you tell?”

Well, you all do have a reason to be, I think to tell him, but instead I say, “Doesn’t surprise me. When d’you think the rest of Gryffindor will show up?” 

He shrugs. “Whenever the team does. I think they all want to come in at once.” He snorts. “Bloody idiots.”

The mental image of most of Gryffindor bursting through the common room with the team is amusing. However, I don’t understand why James doesn’t want to be part of it. Clearly he doesn’t want to, or else he wouldn’t have come back early. “Why aren’t you joining them in their grand entrance?” I ask, turning my head to peer at him.

“Honestly? I don’t think our win is a big enough deal to celebrate,” James admits. “Yeah, it’s great that we won, but there’ll be plenty of other games we could lose or win. We shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves.”

I nod, processing and agreeing with his words, and once again amazed at how I had had him pegged wrong; he’s arrogant, yes, but he’s also realistic. “You’re right.”

We lapse into a comfortable silence, both of us watching as the decorating takes place in the common room. I’m not quite sure what they have planned as means of celebrating, but I’m excited. For once, I feel like I actually belong with my House. “So how exactly are we going to celebrate?” I ask finally.

James sighs. “Well, we’ll celebrate with foods and drinks and whatnot with the younger years, but Fred and Clark usually celebrate their own way during every win.”

The way he says it, with disappointment, makes my stomach drop. “Er, what do they do?”

“Around midnight they move the party to our dorm, but only our year is allowed.” James shakes his head. “They celebrate with firewhiskey.”

“I take it you don’t approve?”

“Not when we have practice and games to look forward to.” He shrugs. “Don’t get me wrong, I like firewhiskey, but…there are better ways to celebrate.”

“I agree,” I say, sighing. I wonder if Clark and Fred will celebrate that way tonight? I hope not, but I don’t see Clark as the type of person to forgo drinking just to make me happy.

James watches me for a moment, his eyebrows drawn. His hand cups my shoulder and he squeezes it gently. “Don’t worry, Shannon. I’m sure Clark will behave tonight.”

“He better,” I say, laughing. I’ve never seen him drunk, although I have heard stories about the Gryffindor parties. Dread settles on my chest like an anchor.

Suddenly the entrance to the common room opens and a boy walks through, the crimson and gold paint on his face smeared. He smiles broadly and opens his arms. “Make way for your Gryffindor Quidditch team, bitches!” he yells, startling the occupants (including myself) of the common room into silence. The boy moves and the rest of the fans enter, all yelling and cheering. Then the team enters, with Fred and Al Potter in the front. 

“Ladies and gentleman, the party has arrived,” Fred announces, his arms and smile wide.


	7. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I decide that I like silence with James. There’s something comforting about the fact that he and I can sit or walk in silence without feeling the need to fill the void. With so many people, I feel as if a conversation has to take place instead of silence. With him, I can be alone with my thoughts. I wonder if he feels the same.

The party truly had arrived.

Cup in my hand, I do a three-sixty, my eyes skimming the common room. Truthfully, I have never seen so many people in our common room before. It’s a bit daunting. I also have never smelled so much alcohol. Even the prefects are partaking in the post-game celebration, which doesn’t truly surprise me the more I think about it. Even I have a drink – albeit, I have taken three sips in a time span of thirty minutes, but still. My first time touching alcohol and I do believe it will be my last. I would rather eat raw kale than drink this gunk. 

I take another sip, though.

I’m not one to waste.

I push between two people, separating the couple easily. “Sorry, sorry.” I have yet to see Clark come back down from his dorm – he had gone up to change after someone spilled their drink on him. I wonder if I can make the trek to the boys’ dorm? No, it’s too risky. 

I blink, realizing that going to the boys’ dorm is more daunting to me than drinking alcohol.

“Shan!”

I turn around, tilting my chin upward in greeting at James. I grin. “Yeah?”

James narrows his eyebrows and gives me a look. I find I have trouble interpreting it. Bollocks. “Are you pissed?”

I shake my head, blinking. “No, I’ve only had a few sips. See?” I shove the cup beneath his nose.

He blinks before deadpanning, “You’re pissed.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

He cracks a grin. It’s boyish, endearing. I notice that his cheeks are tinted. Has he been drinking? I recall our earlier conversation; he had been exasperated at the prospect of Fred and Clark drinking, if I remember correctly. Then again, the party also wasn’t supposed to introduce alcohol until later. I suppose it’s a time for celebration and all rules are thrown out the window. 

“So what if I am?” 

He shrugs. “Nothing wrong with it. If anything,” his eyes twinkle with mischief, “it’s amusing.”

“Yes, well…” The words die on my lips as I realize I have no clue where I’m going with them. I’m certainly not drunk. I do feel a bit…different, but this is not how I imagined being drunk to feel. Besides, I’ve only had a few sips. I glance around. “Have you seen Clark?”

James shakes his head. “Last I saw, he was in the dorm.”

I purse my lips. “He’s been gone a while. D’you think he’s all right?”

“Yeah, he should be. Could’ve passed out.” At my alarmed look, he says, “Not in a bad way! In a…ah, a drunk way.”

“That’s better.”

Silence settles between us and I take a sip of my drink. I wince.

“You know,” James starts. I know by his grin that what he’s about to say isn’t something I will particularly like. “It’s better if you chug it.”

“Says who?” 

“Me.” With a wide sweep of his arm, he gestures around the room. “And everyone else in here. You get it over with in a matter of seconds. Poof, gone.”

I consider it. I could chug it and be done with the drink and alcohol for the rest of my life. All over in a few seconds. Perhaps James has a point. Plugging my nose, I place the cup to my lips and chug the rest of the blasted drink. Everything burns, but James was right: I finished within seconds and it is better than sipping.

“Gimme that, you.” James takes the cup from my hand and places it on a table. “Probably shouldn’t have let you do that. Clark will gut me.”

I blink. “So what? He doesn’t own me.”

James gives me a long look. “No, you’re right.” 

I nod. “Yep. Now, let’s…oh, there he is!”

Clark is making his way toward us. He grins when he reaches us. “Is she drunk?” he asks James.

“She is right here,” I pipe up before James can speak, “and she is not drunk.”

“Ah, well, that has to be remedied.”

I wince. “Actually, it doesn’t. I don’t think I’m going to drink ever again.”

Clark rolls his eyes. “That’s what everyone says their first time, Shan.”

“Uh-huh. Not everyone is as stubborn as I am, though.”

I notice it, then; my body is beginning to feel lighter and – is my face becoming numb? 

“One more drink won’t hurt you.”

It takes me a second, but I realize Clark is pulling his controlling behavior again. Well, semi-controlling; it’s not bad, only annoying.

I relent. “One more.”

Clark moves to grab another drink for me. I can feel James’ eyes on me. I don’t have to look to know that he disapproves. “Don’t say it,” I warn him. 

There’s a huff of breath and then, “Gotcha, Shan.” 

When Clark brings my drink, James excuses himself. I think about his irritation with Clark previously and how he had defended me. I also remember the fact that he has a harder time getting over anger than Clark does. Clark had easily slipped into his easy-going nature before, while James had had to leave. Now I’m worried that I pissed him off. Sweet Merlin, I cannot win. 

Without a word, I do as James taught me: I chug the drink.

By the time I finish, I feel as if I might vomit. 

After a few deep breaths, I’m fine.

“Let’s take a seat, love.” 

We move to sit at the bottom of the stairs that lead to the boys’ dorms. My body feels a weird combination of heavy and light now. I cannot feel my face. And my tongue feels as if it’s out of commission. Good God. 

“ – Shannon, are you listening?”

I blink. “No. What was that?”

Clark wraps an arm around me. He smells amazing. I tell him so.

“Thank you, love. Are you all right?”

I nod. “Yeah, I just…I’ve never felt like this before.”

“I’m flattered.”

“No, no. My body is…heavy.”

Clark chuckles and plants a kiss on my forehead. “Would you like another drink?”

My mind screams no, but my mouth, “Yes, please.”

He’s gone for only a second this time. It takes me only a second to down the drink he hands me. I don’t feel sick this time. It is marvelous. I nuzzle my head into Clark’s neck. He’s warm and soft and he smells so good. I notice something peculiar behind his ear, however.

“What’s that?” I ask, poking the bruise.

I feel him tense beside me. “It’s nothing, Shan. Just a bruise.”

“Yeah, but…how did you get a bruise there?”

It takes me a second but I realize what it is: a hickey.

I don’t even know how to give a bloody hickey so it isn’t from me.

And I hadn’t seen it before.

“Don’t worry about, love. You’re drunk.”

I stand up quickly. The world swarms around me. A hand steadies me, fingers curling around my elbow. “I’m drunk, but I’m not – not stupid. That’s a hickey.” Suddenly, it feels as if the room is watching me – they probably are, given that I believe I just screamed that last sentence. My face feels hot, whether it’s from the alcohol or embarrassment, I’m not sure. “You – who – I.” The words refuse to come out. In my frustration, I shriek, “You’re a tosser!” 

I attempt to make a grand exit, but I’m prevented by the hand wrapped around my elbow. I turn around, coming face-to-face with James. His eyes are remorseful and his lips are pursed. His hand tightens around me. “D’you wanna take a walk?”

Clark stands. “James, I can handle this.” 

I glare at him. “Handle what? You’re – you’re just a tosser.” 

I sound so bloody ridiculous. Everyone’s watching. I hate the attention. My eyes sting and I sniff. Don’t cry, Shannon. Don’t cry.

“Take care of the party,” James tells Clark, voice firm. “I’m going to take care of her.”

A few tears slide off my cheeks. 

“It’s not your place,” Clark tells him.

“I don’t give a fuck. Go.”

Before anything else is said, I’m being led out of the common room. Both of us stand in silence on the stairs. I’m afraid to speak; if I do, I might burst into sobs. James looks pained, as if he wants to say something. He opens his mouth, closes it. “Let’s take a walk outside. You need some fresh air.” 

I don’t question him, I follow silently. I’m afraid that if I open my mouth, I’ll unleash a crying fest upon him. He doesn’t need to see that, that’s the last thing he needs. Merlin, it’s the last thing I need. So, we walk in silence. I try to process everything that has happened within the past hour: I drank too much, someone spilled their drink on Clark, Clark took forever to change shirts, I discovered a hickey behind Clark’s ear, and now James is escorting me to the grounds. 

Should I even be upset? It’s not like he and I are official, so does it matter if he snogged someone else? I try to reason, the way I imagine Di does, but it does nothing to stop the sinking in my stomach and the pang behind my ribcage. No amount of rationalizing will make me feel better, I realize. It will likely only make it worse. 

“Stop overthinking,” James instructs me as we make it outside. A cold gust of wind slaps us in the face. 

“I’m not.”

“You are.” He stops and turns to me. His eyes are earnest. “If you were not overthinking, you would be talking right now.”

I cross my arms. “Maybe I don’t feel like talking?”

James sighs, gives me a look that I can’t decipher. I don’t think he’s drank anything tonight. If he has, at least, I can’t tell. His eyes are clear, beautiful, and open. I realize it with a jolt – there’s nothing guarded in his expression, no walls are up. Has he always been this way? Am I going bonkers? He blinks. His lips pulled into a lop-sided grin. “What are you thinking, Shan?”

“How open your eyes are.”

He blinks. “What do you mean?” he inquires, confused. He sounds amused.

“I mean,” I look around, as if something can help me articulate my thoughts into words. “I mean, your eyes aren’t guarded. They’re open, honest. They,” I wave my hand around, “there’s nothing hidden.” Merlin, did that even make sense? I feel as if it took me an hour to get the words out.

He grows silent, thoughtful. After a few beats, he says, “Yeah, all right.”

Silence lapses between us again, leaving my mind to wander back to Clark.

Am I right in being upset? 

Does it matter? Right or wrong, nothing is going to take away the fact that I’m hurt.

“Clark’s a git,” James interrupts my thoughts. “Let’s sit, yeah?” 

He leads me to a bench facing the Black Lake. We sit. I can see my breath in the air, but it’s funny, because I don’t feel cold. Perhaps because I drank alcohol? We’ll go with that.  
“He’s a git,” James repeats, turning toward me. “He – Clark likes the thrill of the chase.” He scratches the back of his head. “And, well, now that he’s not chasing you anymore…”

It hurts to hear. “I mean, we aren’t dating.” I try to reason. “So it doesn’t count.”

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t make excuses for him, Shan.”

“But it’s true.”

“It shouldn’t matter if you’re dating or not.”

“But it does.”

James huffs. “It doesn’t and you know it. Stop trying to reason. Stop ignoring what’s real.”

His harsh words sting. “I’m not,” I try to defend myself.

“Look,” James inhales, “I’ve witnessed Clark treat girls poorly. I thought he would be different with you because he’s wanted you for bloody ever, but…I dunno if he’s going to be different.” He sounds remorseful. “Just – be careful, yeah? Talk to him about what happened tonight. Stand your ground. Give him hell.”

I don’t feel like giving anyone hell right now. Right now, I just want to hide somewhere. But that cannot happen – primarily because I’m a little drunk. Also because I would feel rude for leaving James alone. Also because a part of me doesn’t want to leave him alone. His presence is comforting. A comfortable silence settles between us, with both of us looking out toward the Black Lake. The moon is full tonight; its reflection in the dark water is still, unwavering. 

I take advantage of the silence to think about everything that has happened so far this school year. Life Studies, being partnered with James, Di acting weird, me giving Clark a chance – all of it feels like so much, almost too much – and the year has hardly started. It feels as if my world is tilting sideways; not quite changed completely, but getting there. I’m not sure how I feel about it. I’m not terribly a fan of change – but who is? I decide that I need to learn how to compartmentalize, that’s what Di calls it. Right now, everything is a jumbled mess. When I learn how to compartmentalize, maybe then I can get my ducks in a row. Maybe.

Priority number one: passing Life Studies.

Priority number two: my friendship with Di.

Priority number three: keeping myself sane.

I realize, then, that I’m not sure where Clark lands on my list.

I suppose I should speak with him tomorrow, when I’m sober and when I’ve had a chance to think properly.

“I think I’m going to head back up,” I announce, standing. James stands. I stop him with a hand, “You don’t have to go with me, I can manage.”

James shrugs. “It’s time I head up, too. We’ll walk together.” 

I nod. We walk in silence. I decide that I like silence with James. There’s something comforting about the fact that he and I can sit or walk in silence without feeling the need to fill the void. With so many people, I feel as if a conversation has to take place instead of silence. With him, I can be alone with my thoughts. I wonder if he feels the same. I open my mouth to ask him when he says, “Shannon, I mean it when I say to be careful around Clark.”

The seriousness behind his tone startles me. “You told me that.”

“I know, I know. It’s just – like I said, I thought he was different before. I thought this time would be different, I mean.”

He’s repeating himself from earlier. “I’ll be careful, James,” I assure him, feeling strangely as if I need to placate him. “Promise.”

He accepts this, nods. The rest of our trek to the common room is in silence.  
…  
I awake the next morning with a vague headache and a need to get to the bottom of things.

But not before eating breakfast.

There aren’t many people here for breakfast, only a few of us occupy the Gryffindor table. I can’t say I blame them. The only reason I’m here is because my stomach was nagging me for food and my headache was crying for water. I think over what happened last night – Clark’s hickey, my getting drunk, James comforting me. I wish I could go back and rewatch it all. 

I need to decide on what to do about Clark. 

The problem is, I have no bloody clue as to what to do. 

I wish Di were here, but she’s not and I’m not sure when I’ll be able to see her today. She’s so bloody busy lately. It strikes me then that the other advice and comfort I’ve received this year thus far has been given by James. I could ask him for advice, but I already know what he’ll say – be careful. He isn’t going to tell me not to go for one of his best mates, but he’s also not going to tell me to not do what’s best for me.

I simply have no clue what’s best for me. I’m not sure what to make of anything.

I’m so in my own thoughts that I don’t realize someone is sitting in front of me until a hand grabs at one of my scones.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Fred says cheerfully, taking a bite out of the scone.

“You’re welcome.” I shift in my seat. “Uh, can I ask you something?”

“Reckon you just did – have another go at it.”

I inhale. Exhale. Inhale again. “What should I do?”

He arches an eyebrow at me. “About?”

Hadn’t he heard about what happened? “Clark,” I answer, a bit impatiently. “I found a hickey on him last night. What should I do?”

He shrugs, dark eyes watching me curiously. “Do you care enough about him to continue on?”

My heart sinks when I realize the answer: no.

I shift uncomfortably. It would seem horribly unfair to him for me to ditch him now, wouldn’t it? 

Fred takes that as enough of an answer. He snorts. “It surprised me that you went on a date with him in the first place, after he slept with Di and all.”

I blink.

Did he just say what I think he did?

My mouth is dry when I ask, “What?”


	8. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m confused. What he says makes sense: he’s not a bad person, he’s only behaved badly in the past. But the fact that he shows little remorse strikes me hard; he’s excusing his behavior as if he just read some bull-shit self-help guide.

Fred stops chewing. His eyes widen. “You didn’t know.”

I’m frozen in my seat. I can only blink at Fred, the little piece of information he just casually tossed my way rendering me speechless. Di and Clark have slept together? When? Did she give him the hickey? Is that why she was acting so strange before? Did James know? Wait – Fred did say that he was surprised I went on a date with Clark after he had slept with Di, so it happened before the date? 

“Shannon, you there?”

Fred waves a hand in front of my face. “Yeah, I’m here. I just – elaborate, please.”

He shifts, looking uncomfortable now. He probably thinks he’s going to get his arse kicked. “They – they’ve shagged a time or two.”

It feels as if ice water has been thrown upon me. Clark and Di – my Di – have slept together multiple times. My best friend has slept with the guy who has chased me for years. None of this makes sense – why would Clark continue his interest in me if he was sleeping with Di? More importantly, why would Di sleep with him knowing he was pursuing me? Why would she let me go on a date with him? The betrayal stings. The one person I have felt I could trust and depend on at this school – hell, outside of school – has betrayed me. It hurts.

I push back from the table. I can’t eat anymore, not when my stomach is in knots and I feel as if I’m about to cry in front of Fred. He gives me a concerned look. “Shannon, I’m sorry, honest. I thought you knew.” His dark eyes are earnest, remorseful. “I’m a bloody tosser.”

“No, you’re not, Fred. I – I suppose I would have found out one way or another.”

I turn and walk out of the Great Hall, my mind racing. What am I going to do? First, there’s the hickey situation. Next, there’s a whole pile of dung that I have to sort through. A part of me wants to pretend that nothing has happened; I don’t want to lose Di. Despite it all, she’s my best friend. I’m not sure what I want from Clark. 

This is all just a bloody mess. It happened so quickly, right under my nose. It’s overwhelming. Who can I talk to? Di isn’t an option, not right now, at least. Clark certainly isn’t.

James? I turn around and walk through the Great Hall doors, calling to Fred, “Fred, where’s James?”

It takes him a second before he finds where my voice is coming from. “Quidditch Pitch!”

Somewhere quickly accessible, thank Merlin. I turn and head toward the Quidditch Pitch, passing through the castle’s main doors and entering the autumn air. My legs cannot carry me toward the Quidditch Pitch fast enough. I consider running for a moment, but I quickly dismiss the possibility; there’s no need to make myself look bonkers. 

Coming upon the Pitch, I spy James in the air. I worry that he won’t notice me a moment before he notices me. Immediately, he flies down. “Wotcher, Shan.”

“Hullo.” I shift. I hadn’t thought of what I had planned on saying, I realize. I should have thought of a plan or something. Now I’m standing here, eyes on James’, saying nothing. Sweet Merlin.

James gives me a half-concerned, half-amused look. “All right?”

“Did you know that Clark and Di shagged?” I blurt.

He blinks. Opens his mouth. Blinks again. Finally, “Yeah.”

I didn’t realize that I was depending on hearing the other answer option for that question. Somehow, this hurts worse than when Fred told me. I swallow, purse my lips, and take a step back. My chest is heavy – too heavy. Why is everything going to shit all at once? I thought James would be on my side, at least. The fact that he isn’t is a slap in the face. I reason that it shouldn’t be – since when does he owe me a thing? But, Merlin, it hurts. I cannot take away the hurt, no matter what logic says.

“Oh,” is all I can think to say. 

I think James notes my disappointment because he sighs, runs a hand through his dark curls. “It’s complicated, Shannon.”

“Trust me, I know.”

His eyes – beautiful, open – look haunted. “Let’s have a seat, yeah?”

Wordlessly, I follow him to a bench. We sit. “They first shagged last year. It was at a party, tensions were high because exams were coming around, and they just – did it.” He winces. “It didn’t happen again until the beginning of this year, but then he asked you out and,” he shrugs, “as far as I know, it stopped.” He licks his lips. “I can tell you that she wasn’t who gave him the hickey. He received that during the party.”

While I was in the common room, waiting for him to come back down. 

“Dunno who it was. He wouldn’t tell me.” He snorts. “As a matter of fact, we haven’t spoken since the party. He’s pissed that I took you away.”

I’m silent for a moment, trying to process everything. So, that was why Di was acting so strangely before. At least I know she felt some guilt. Clark, on the other hand, acted perfectly fine, demonstrating no remorse. Prat. 

“What right does he have to be pissed?” I mutter, looking at my shoes.

“He feels entitled to you, Shannon. In case that isn’t obvious.” 

Is it just me or did his words hold some bite?

“No one’s entitled to me,” I reply.

“Exactly.”

We make eye contact and I smile, despite it all. He smiles as well; it’s a crooked smile, with a single dimple hugging his lip like a half-crescent moon. Something in my chest flutters. 

That’s enough of that. 

I groan, “What am I going to do, James?”

He snorts. “Die.”

I smack him playfully on the arm. “I blame Life Studies.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yep.” My gaze moves to the Black Lake. “Everything was perfect until that bloody class came along.”

“But now you get me as a husband, doesn’t that count for something?” His voice is teasing.

I laugh. “Oh, of course. My apologies.”

“I’ll forgive you this time.”

“Thank you, kind sir.”

We’re silent for a moment. I like our silences. They aren’t weighed down with tension. 

“You know,” he starts after a moment. “There isn’t much you can do, Shan. Obviously you can confront Clark and Di – if you want to salvage your friendship with her, at least. And,” his tone changes, “if you want to continue with Clark as well, I suppose. Though I imagine you wouldn’t?” 

I turn. His eyes are sharp on me.

That’s there my issues is – do I want to continue with Clark? 

“I dunno,” I admit, voice small. “I mean, I’m trying to rationalize it. I – "

“Don’t do that. You’re not rationalizing,” his voice is firm, “you’re making excuses.”

It only dawns on me that I’m doing that after he voices it. 

“I didn’t realize I was doing that,” I admit. I hate how small I sound.

James places his hand over mind, gives it a squeeze. “It’s okay, Shannon.” His hand is warm over mine. Strangely, I have the urge to flip my palm over and thread our fingers together. It’s as if my fingers ache to be entwined with his. “Everything is a big pile of dung right now, but it’s not going to always be like that. All of this will blow over soon.”  
Our gazes are locked. Sweet Merlin, I love his eyes. I don’t think I say it enough - I don’t think I could ever say it enough. They’re the windows to his soul and all I can see is beauty. The boy before me – should I call him a man, I wonder – has a beautiful soul. Honest. Sweet. Pure. 

I marvel at the thought for a moment. I had always viewed James as something of a troublemaker – not nearly as bad as Fred and Clark, but the ring leader. I had always viewed him as better than myself, not because of his surname, but because of his popularity, his intelligence. His bravery. And now I see – 

“We should go in,” James breaks the silence, eyes beholding something I can’t place. He gives my hand a squeeze before pulling away. 

I stand. “Yeah, we should. I suppose I need to speak with Clark and Di.” 

The thought is a little scary. 

“Everything’ll be all right.” James smiles. “Come find me when you’re finished, yeah?”

…  
I stand outside the Ravenclaw common room for what feels like ever before someone comes through. “Excuse me, can you grab Di?”

Five minutes later and she and I are sitting side-by-side in the corridor, backs against the wall. “So what is it?” she asks, sounding uncertain.

I just want this all over with already. I blurt, “Why did you fail to tell me that you slept with Clark?”

She stills beside me, brings her knees up to her chest, leans her forehead against them. “I didn’t know how.”

“There’s hardly a protocol for it.”

“I know, Shan. I know. Trust me.” Is it bad that I’m pleased at her tone? “It just – it only happened twice. And…I don’t even know how to why, it just did. I’m sorry, Shan.” She raises her head up, gaze meeting mine. “I am so sorry.”

Is that it, then? Do I accept her apology? Do I carry on as if my best friend hasn’t betrayed me? I know it isn’t as terrible as it could be – they could have slept together after he and I went on a date. No, he only snogged someone else, received a hickey from them, and then tried to act as if all was well. 

“Okay, I – uh, thank you for apologizing.” 

It’s all I can manage. I can’t forgive – not yet. The wound is too fresh and, try as I might, I have never been capable of forgetting easily. I hate not knowing what will happen – if Di and I will make true amends – but I’m not going to force it for the sake of fear. I cannot forgive her, not yet. I love her, but I cannot forgive her.

I stand from the wall. “I’ll see you tonight at dinner?”

I’ve never seen Di look so sad. She nods. “Yeah.”

I swallow. My next mission: Clark.  
…  
Luck seems to be on my side – for now, at least.

I meet Clark right as I’m entering the common room. He’s leaving. Well, he is trying to leave; I stand in his way, wide-eyed and not keen on the conversation we are about to have. He has the decency to look ashamed of himself; his cheeks are even a little pink. Good. While I felt a ping of satisfaction with Di, with Clark I want to feel smug. 

“We need to talk,” I inform him, sounding stronger than I feel. I think of James – what would he do? How would he approach this? I assume he would be firm and take-no-shit.   
I can try that.

“Now,” I say, “it cannot wait.”

Clark blinks, as if he’s confused. Then he sighs, turns without a word and takes a seat. I sit on the sofa opposite him. “Do you have anything to say?”

He shifts. I want to curse him – he looks handsome, wearing a tight long-sleeve button-up and a dark pair of trousers. “I don’t know what to say, Shan,” he answers finally, sounding conflicted. “I fucked up.”

I don’t reply.

“Shan, I just – bloody hell. We aren’t official, I was drinking, and I wasn’t thinking.” He licks his lips. “All we did was snog.”

“Is that all you and Di did?”

He stills. His eyes widen and I swear I think his face drains of color.

“How – who told you?”

Someone who is remorseful would apologize, I note. He demands to know who told me.

“It doesn’t matter. The fact is that you shagged my best friend and then pursued me.” My voice is firm. “You shagged my best friend and then asked me out.” I’m getting angrier. I don’t care. He deserves it. “You acted as if you truly fancied me and then you get a hickey from someone at a party you invited me to.” I exhale. “To put it simply, you’re a git.”

“That’s not fair, Shan.”

I find that I want to curse him. I want to hex him. I want to do something. He doesn’t apologize, he doesn’t even look remorseful. I imagine he might only be sorry that he was caught. Merlin, how can someone be so full of themselves? Am I overreacting?

“You’re not going to apologize,” I say flatly.

“I’m sorry.”

“It doesn’t count if I have to remind you to.”

Clark huffs. “What the hell do you want me to do, Shan? Grovel at your feet?” He runs a hand through his hair. “What I did was shit, yeah. What can I do to change it, though? Is an apology going to fix things?”

He has a point, I suppose. But still. “No, but it would reflect some level of human decency shown by you.”

“I’m not a bloody serial killer. I might’ve shagged your best friend while wanting you and I might’ve snogged a girl while we were starting out, but I’m not a bad person.”  
I’m confused. What he says makes sense: he’s not a bad person, he’s only behaved badly in the past. But the fact that he shows little remorse strikes me hard; he’s excusing his behavior as if he just read some bull-shit self-help guide.

I stand. Without another word, I walk to my dorm.  
…  
I awake from a nap feeling no better than I did before I accidentally dozed off on my bed. Brilliant.

With a groan, I put on my trainers, run a hand through my hair in an effort to look decent, and head to the Great Hall. I’m still irked at Clark, my feelings have gone from royally pissed at him to confused and irritated. What he said made sense, but it also sounded like a bunch of manipulative mumbo jumbo. I’m not sure where I stand with the situation now. 

Entering the Great Hall, I make a beeline for the Ravenclaw table, finding Di sitting alone at the end of the table. When I sit in front of her, she gives me a relieved look. “I thought you were going to bail,” she tells me.

I shrug. “I overslept.” I fill my plate. Should I talk to her about my conversation with Clark? It seems like the type of conversation one would have with a best friend, but Di and I are not on the best of terms right now. I want to talk about it with someone, though – perhaps I’ll talk to James about it. 

I glance toward the Gryffindor table, pleased when I see that Fred and James are sitting together and there is no sign of Clark. As if on cue, James turns his head. We make eye contact. He gives me a nod and a small smile and I return the gesture. I find that I don’t want to turn away, but Di pulls me out of my thoughts.

“Have you talked to Clark?”

My smile slips. “Yes. It was…pointless. He wasn’t apologetic at all.”

“Sounds like the tosser.” She looks troubled. I ask why. “It’s nothing.”

So, we’re back to keeping secrets. I purse my lips. We continue to eat in silence, until I stand and announce that I’m leaving. 

“Do you want to hang?” she asks, standing.

I shake my head. “No, I have plans. I’m sorry, Di.”

I would be lying if I said I’m not pleased that she looks a little let down. We part ways and I head to the astronomy tower; it’s one of my favorite places in Hogwarts. It’s remote and quiet at night, giving a stunning view of the night sky – if the weather permits, that is. Tonight, I hope the sky is clear. I would love to get lost in the night sky for a while, forget everything that is plaguing my mind as of late.

I enter and immediately sense a presence. Dammit. The one thing I want today and I can’t have it. I suppose I can come back later; it’ll give me time to do a bit of homework anyway. I turn to leave but am stopped when the person reveals themselves, coming out from behind a corner in the far end of the deck. 

“Shannon.”

My heart squeezes. Clark stands before me; his eyes are red, as if he has been crying. I want to ask what’s wrong, but I keep my mouth shut. 

“Clark.” I swallow.

He blinks, walks forward. “I’ll leave. I was just - clearing my mind.”

He walks past by and for reasons unknown to me I find myself saying, “Don’t go.” I lick my lips. “I mean, you can stay. You were here first. I’ll go.”

He turns around. “How about we both stay?”

That probably isn’t a good idea, but I nod anyway. What’s the worst that can happen? In silence, we walk to the observatory. The sky is clear tonight. I smile. 

“I would like another chance, Shannon.”

It takes a minute for me to process what Clark just said to me. I’m trying to enjoy the night sky – not worry about what’s going on in my life. 

“I don’t know about that, Clark.”

“Everyone deserves a second chance.”

“Who said that?”

He makes an impatient noise in the back of his throat. “It’s just known.”

“Not to me.”

He sighs. “Shannon, please let me prove myself to know.”

He has nothing to prove, I want to say. What happened, happened and there’s no taking it back. True, it isn’t like he committed a horrid act, but still. I’m not feeling particularly forgiving. 

“I don’t want to discuss this right now.”

“Well, I do.”

“I don’t care.”

I’m not going to get peace tonight – at least, not right now, not here. Without a word, I turn and make to leave. His fingers wrap around my upper arm. “I’m going to prove myself to you,” he vows, eyes serious. “I promise.”

I jerk my arm out of his grasp. “Goodnight, Clark.”


	9. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m stunned into silence. James noticed all of that about me? I feel guilty for believing him to be uncaring of others around him; it turns out that he’s far more observant that I ever imagined. I’m also touched that he has noticed so much about me. It’s flattering. It makes my stomach do somersaults.

I enter Life Studies feeling groggy and all-together not ready for whatever Professor Higgins has up her sleeve today.  My mood lightens when I see James.  I take my seat beside him, purposefully ignoring Di and Clark behind me.  Perhaps Di and I are okay, but I’m not about to treat her the same as before – not until I have answers. 

“Hullo,” James greets me with a grin.

I find myself grinning back.  “Hullo, hullo.  D’you have any idea what Higgins has in store for us today?”

He grimaces.  “Not a clue, m’afraid.  Didn’t she mention last week something about an assignment?”

“Merlin, I don’t remember.”

“Let’s just…assume we’re starting on a clean slate?”

I snort.  “I think we _have_ to.”

I can feel the gaze of each Clark and Di on us as we speak.  I know they can hear our conversation; they’re only sitting behind us.  After last night’s encounter with Clark, I’m not itching to speak to him; it’s almost as if he thinks he can behave badly and an apology afterward suffices.  Not to mention the way with which he tries to excuse his behavior.  A part of me does feel terribly for him, but the part isn’t big enough for me to do something about it.

Di, I’m still upset with.  There’s something more that she’s hiding and until she lets me back in, I’m not going to devote my time to our friendship – what’s the point of trying when she isn’t?  She might be my only true friend, but it is not as if I’m incapable of making more friends. 

Besides, I have James and Fred. 

Perhaps I’m not as close with them as I am Di, but that can change, yeah?  This whole year is a new experience to me.  Anything can happen.

“What are you doing after class?” James snaps me out of my reverie.

I shrug.  “Nothing.  I’m finished with classes after this.”

“Brilliant.  Want to chill with me and Fred?”

Is this a sign from god?

I nod.  “Sure!”

Professor Higgins calls the start of class.  We turn our attention her way.  I feel as if she wears the same outfit every day – a navy pantsuit – but I realize I’ve never cared enough to pay attention.  Nevertheless, she always wears the same severe expression, as if she is a seventy-something professor who has seen too many failures in her day.  Instead, she’s a thirty-something professor who has yet to see too many failures but is probably going to witness some soon.

I might be one of them.

I’m being dramatic.  I’ll likely pass; I’m one of the few people who are part of a harmonious pseudo-coupling.

“I’m not certain that many of you have noticed this,” Professor Higgins starts, “but your assignments in this class are dependent upon your progression in the relationship you are in.  If you are single, they are dependent upon whatever progress you are making within.”  So the singles get to experience self-actualization and inner peace but the rest of us are forced to make a not-real relationship thrive?  That’s hardly fair.  I make a note to speak about this during end-of-year evaluations.

“So, it is pertinent that you work on your relationship with your partner.  That is, if you want this class to go smoothly for you.  If you do not work on it…” she trails off, leaving the fate of those who are lazy to be determined by our creative minds.

I glance at James, feeling nervous.  I wonder how our relationship is progressing.

I open my Life Studies notebook.  Flipping to the next blank page, I watch in anticipation as words appear at the top of the page. 

“Oh, we get careers now?” I pipe up.  It makes sense, I suppose.  How else are James and I going to having a thriving relationship if I’m not a, “A carpenter,” I deadpan.

James snorts beside me.  Noting my glare, he regains his composure as he reminds me, “Jesus was a carpenter.”

Brilliant.

“What’s yours?” I ask, silently hoping that it is worse than mine. 

“House-husband.”  He sounds confused, but not displeased.

“So.  I’m breadwinner.”

James gives me a pitying look.  “Looks like the weight of this family’s happiness is on your shoulders.”

“We’ll fail.”

He gives me a pat on the back.  “I believe in you.”

I make a mocking noise. 

“What do we do with this information?” Di asks from behind me.  I wonder what her job is.  Probably a spy – something secretive.

Professor Higgins smiles.  It’s not a smile I take well to.  “The overall ability of your family to thrive is determined by your work performance, as is with most careers and how they impact one’s home life.  Your work performance is determined by a few factors: if you attend class, if you are on time for class, and if you work in class.”

Thank Merlin I don’t have to build anything anytime soon.

“What if your career is a house-wife?” Di asks behind me.  Di, as a house-wife?  That will never happen.  This class is a load of dung.

“It is treated as if it’s a job.”

Fair enough.

“So our family’s happiness is placed equally upon our shoulders,” I inform James in a whisper.  He snorts.

The class drones on, with Professor Higgins going around the room to make sure that everyone understands.  I’m going to assume that some people – perhaps quite a few – are at risk of failing if she feels the need to dedicate a whole class to making certain we understand how a simple concept works.

When class is dismissed, I stand.  “Where are we going?”

Fred comes up beside James.  “I vote for the grounds.”

James looks at me.  “Any complaints?”

“None.”

We walk to the grounds in relative silence, with the two cousins making the occasional remark here and there.  I’ve always found the dynamic of the Potters and Weasleys interesting; James has two siblings here, Al and Lily. Fred has Roxanne, who is a Hufflepuff.  Then there are a slew of cousins.  They’re all a bit hard to keep up with until you are integrated into the family.  I’ll not be integrated, but it’s nice to know that James and Fred consider me a friend.

We enter the grounds and I groan as I feel a gust of cold air.  I glance up.  Sure enough, the sun is nowhere in sight, hiding behind a plethora of clouds.  We take a seat on the ground.  I notice that not many people are out right now.  Leaning back on my palms, I look between the two cousins.  “So.  How do you think Life Studies is going to go?”

“I wanna know how I mix with you lot,” Fred says.  I want to know as well.

James lays back, arms crossed behind his head.  “I reckon you’re going to be a homewrecker.  Is that your career?”

“Close.  I’m a chef.”

“At least you’re not a carpenter,” I grouse.

James laughs.  “Bloody hell, that’s brilliant.”

“Says you, the one who can sit at home all day and do nothing.”

“Oi, being a house-husband is perfectly respectable.”

“Says who?”

“Me.  And Professor Higgins.”

“She didn’t say that.”

“It was implied.”

I open my mouth for a rebuttal when I notice Fred is giving me an odd look.  His eyebrows are furrowed.  He’s looking at me as if I’m a specimen to be observed and he’s the scientist.  “What?” I ask.

He shakes his head.  “Nothing.”  As if nothing happened, he grins.  “I think I’m going to break Di and Clark up.”

“Has Clark’s charms gotten to you as well?” I ask.

“If only he wasn’t one of my best mates.”

James asks, “Why do you think that?”

“There’s trouble in paradise with them.”  He looks between me and James.  “I see no trouble here.”

“Ah, but there is.  Between Shannon and Clark…and Di,” James supplies.

Fred considers it for a second, and then shrugs.  “Yeah.  How is that, by the way?  Did you talk to ‘em?”

I nod.  “Di apologized, but wasn’t very forthcoming with information.  Clark…”  I realize now that I have yet to tell anyone about last night’s run-in with Clark.  “He wasn’t apologetic.  He made excuses and was just…he acted as if he didn’t care.”  I hesitate.  Should I tell them about last night?  Strangely, I feel as if I should keep it to myself; it was personal, Clark had been crying.  But I’m also not responsible for his feelings.

I decide not to tell them.  What does it matter anyway?

“That sounds like him,” Fred replies with a wince.  “He’s been this way with quite a few girls.”

“And no one thought to warn me?”

James answers this time, “We thought it would be different.  He was different with you.”

I’m not sure if he realizes it or not, but his words cause doubt to creep inside my head.  If everything is different with Clark, should I give him another chance?  I shift where I sit, hating the weight on my chest.  Sometimes, I wish I had someone to make all my decisions for me, but I know I would hate it; I’m far too stubborn.

“Different,” I snort.

“It’s true,” Fred says, nodding.  “He wanted you for years.  You’re the only girl he has consistently wanted.”

“Other than Di.”

Fred winces.  “Er, emotionally, then?  You were the only girl he has consistently wanted in an emotional sense?”

“That makes me feel better.”

“Whoops.”

“It sounds as if you both are trying to convince me to give him a second chance.”

James says firmly, “No.  We’re just stating facts.  Or what we thought were facts.  I dunno.”  He moves onto an elbow.  “Bottom line is, he’s treated you like shit and, no, you should not give him a second chance.”

“Right,” Fred echoes.

“How are you and Camille, Fred?”  It’s easy to forget that he has a girlfriend, given how little I’ve seen the two together.

He shrugs.  “Peachy-keen.”

“They’re hardly together,” James confirms my thoughts.

“That works for us.”  Fred’s expression turns mischievous.  “Don’t get jealous because you’re single and missing companionship.”

“I can find companionship easily,” James points out, tone suggestive. 

For some reason, I’m not fond of that fact.

“I simply don’t want it,” he goes on.  I find I’m fond of _that_.  “Not anymore.  I’m at a different place in my life.”  He sounds like a thirty-something overcoming a mid-life crisis – not a seventeen year-old talking about shagging girls.

“Different place in your life.  Right, mate.”  Something about Fred’s tone is suggestive.  James gives him a look.  I find myself looking between the cousins, confused.

Fred stands, sighs.  “I have a date with Camille soon.  I’ll leave you lot to it.”

I watch as he leaves, secretly wondering about the dynamics of his relationship with Camille.  It seems unconventional.

“I talked to Clark last night,” I inform James, finding myself comfortable enough to tell him now that Fred is gone.  I don’t want too many people knowing that I caught him crying.  I imagine it would hurt his ego.  I shouldn’t care about that, but I find that I do.

James sits up, gives me an inquiring glance.  “Oh?”

I lick my lips.  Merlin, should I tell him?  Well, I have to now.  “At the astronomy tower.  He was there when I walked up and – he was emotional.  He looked as if he’d been crying.  He asked for a second chance.” 

“And?” 

Something about James’ tone throws me off – it’s hard.

“And I told him no.”

James looks relieved.  “Good.  Don’t fall for his manipulative words.”

I shake my head.  “I won’t.”

“You know,” James leans forward, “I always knew that you were smart.  I didn’t realize how much until this year.”

I blink, confused.  Where did that come from?  “Oh.  Thank you – I guess?”

“I remember in first year, when you were the best at transfiguration.  I was so bloody jealous, I wanted to be better than you so bloody badly.”  He grins.  “I never was, though.  You always seemed to be the best at every class.  Well, every class except – “

“Potions,” we say in unison.

He laughs.  “Do you remember when you blew a potion up in third year and it singed your eyebrows?”

“How could I forget?”

It had been a horrifying experience, but I certainly learned to be patient in measuring ingredients after that.

His laughter dies and he looks at me.  He’s giving me an odd look.  “I didn’t realize how intelligent you are until this year.  The way you handle situations and handle yourself, despite what’s thrown at you.  You have a certain kind of strength.  I dunno how to explain it.”

And I don’t know how to respond to that.  My heart is beating harshly in my chest and I will it to stop.  I’m certain that if I don’t break eye contact with James, my heart is going to beat out of my chest.

I look at the grass.  “Thank you.  I’ve, uh, never been told that.”

“Well, now you have.”  He sounds proud.

I truly have never been told such a thing.  Neither my father nor my mother has ever expressed pride in – well, anything that I have done.  We’re a small, quiet, conservative family.  Working-class, emotions aren’t discussed.  Compliments certainly aren’t given so freely, if at all.

“Do you want to hang with me and Fred when we go to Hogsmeade this weekend?”

I don’t hide my shock; the fact that James expresses interest in spending time with me goes above my threshold for understanding.  I assume he wants to do well in Life Studies and try not to entertain the thought that he might genuinely want to spend time with me. 

“Sure!”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Oh, no, no I’d love to.”

He grins.  “Good.”

…

For some ungodly reason, I find myself in a predicament.

What do I wear to Hogsmeade?

It shouldn’t be a big deal, given that I’m only hanging out with Fred and James and I know neither of them cares about what I wear.  Yet I currently stand in my dorm, in only my underwear, clothes thrown about around me.  I’ve never been one to overthink what I wear until this school year, it seems, and it’s odd.  Do I wear red because James likes it on me?  But would he think I chose red simply because he likes it?  Do I dress comfortably or stylishly?

Comfortably, given that I own few stylish clothes.

With a groan, I pick up a red turtleneck.  It’s warm, meaning I won’t require wearing a coat.  I pair it with a pair of dark trousers and a pair of brown boots.  I put on a cream-colored boggin, apply a tinted lip balm, and I’m ready to go.

I meet James in the common room.  “You look nice,” he compliments as I walk down the stairs.

“Thank you.”  I notice something peculiar.  “Where’s Fred?”

James shrugs.  “He’s spending the day with Camille.  Looks like it’s just me and you.”  He gives me a concerned look.  “If that’s all right?”

It’s an odd sight, seeing James Potter unsure of himself.  “Of course!”  The idea of spending all Hogsmeade visit with James makes me nervous and I’m not sure why.  “Shall we go?”

Our trek to Hogsmeade is a silent one and, like before, the silence isn’t awkward.  Thank Merlin.  I wonder what we’re going to do when we arrive – grab a bite to eat first?  Shop?  Our options are limited.  I wonder if he’ll get bored of me, it’s a silly thought.

“Honeydukes first?” James’ voice interrupts my thoughts. 

We’re coming upon the sweet shop, so I nod.  “I wouldn’t mind some sugar quills.”

“Are those your favorite?”  He holds the door open for me.  “They’re my sister’s favorite.”

“Oh, I love them.  They’re addicting.”

“I’ve always preferred chocolate frogs.”

I bump his shoulder playfully.  “Cliché.”

“Your words wound me.”

“Poor baby.”

We enter the chocolate aisle together.  “You know, before I entered a healthy lifestyle, I used to do nothing but buy sweets from here every Hogsmeade weekend.”

James, picking up a chocolate bar, says, “Yeah?  What made you want to be healthy?”

“I was tired of comparing myself to others,” I answer casually, surprised at how easily the words slipped out of my mouth.  I’m surprised at how easily I feel I can open up with James around.  “I was always stuck in the same cycle of feeling terribly about myself and comparing myself to other girls.  So, I decided to do something about it.”

James’ eyes are sharp on me.  “Did that help, though?  I’m sorry, but it seems as if you hardly did it for yourself.”

He has the guts to ask me something no one else has.

“At first, I didn’t do it for myself.  I thought I was, yeah.  But about…five months into my diet and exercise plan, I realized I was doing it because I wanted everyone to see me a certain way.  That’s when I stopped for a few months and gathered myself.  When I started back, it was for myself.”

James smiles.  “That’s brilliant.  Did you notice a difference?”

I eye a box of chocolate frogs.  “A huge difference.  It took forever – well, it felt like forever – but I slowly became more self-aware and I learned to be easier on myself.  I learned a lot.” 

It was something incredible.  When I realized that I needed to become healthier for myself, I began changing; my mindset changed.  I learned that being smaller did not mean being healthier.  I learned that my body type was perfect for me.  Most importantly, I learned that I could make my own happiness and it wasn’t dependent upon those around me.

“You know, I noticed a difference in you.”

That catches my interest.  “Yeah?”

James nods, grabbing a box of chocolate frogs.  “You used to be so quiet.  You would walk with your shoulders hunched and wouldn’t make eye contact with anyone.  Then it changed – what was it?  Fifth year?”

I’m stunned into silence.  James noticed all of that about me?  I feel guilty for believing him to be uncaring of others around him; it turns out that he’s far more observant that I ever imagined.  I’m also touched that he has noticed so much about me.  It’s flattering.  It makes my stomach do somersaults. 

I nod, swallow.  “Yeah, it was then.” 

He smiles.  “Promise I haven’t been stalking you all this time.”

I laugh.  “Ha.”

We walk to another aisle.  I spot the sugar quills and grab a box.  “You know, I’m surprised.”

“Oh?”  James arches an eyebrow at me.

“That you’ve noticed so much.”

He shrugs.  I swear I think his cheeks are pink.  “Ah, it’s nothing.”

It isn’t nothing, but I’m not going to embarrass him so I simply smile and walk to the counter.  James steps in front of me, placing his box of chocolate frogs on the counter with my sugar quills.  He quickly pays for our candy, not giving me a chance to pay for mine. 

“Cheater,” I accuse as we walk out. 

He grins mischievously.  “Can’t help that I’m faster than you, Shan.”

“Mmhm.”

Next we go to The Three Broomsticks.  I try not to think about the last time I was here; it was my date with Clark.

We’re seated.  “Since you bought our candy, I’ll buy our meal,” I inform James.

I’m suddenly aware that it sounds as if we’re on a date.  Merlin.

“Nope,” James answers, not even glancing up from the menu.  “I invited you out, I pay.”

It really, really sounds like we’re on a date.

Are we?

I assume no, because I feel as if James is blunt enough to ask me on a date if he wants one.

I roll my eyes and don’t reply.  I’ll just grab the check when it’s brought out.

We order our food and as the waiter walks away from our table, I lean forward.  “Thank you.”

He shrugs.  “S’no problem.”  He smiles wide.

“When is the next Quidditch game?”

“Ah, next Tuesday?  I think.”

I nod.  “Will there be a post-game party?”

He snorts.  “If we win, probably.  Hopefully this party isn’t as hectic as the last.”

“Hopefully,” I echo, smiling.

“Will you come to the game?” he asks.

I shrug.  “Maybe.”

The waiter brings our food out.  We begin eating in silence and I allow my mind to wonder.  I wouldn’t mind going to the game, to be honest; I enjoyed it the last time.  It’s nice to watch James in action.  But the thought of going to the game and seeing Clark makes me nervous.  It’s ridiculous, given the fact that I have to see Clark regardless. 

“Hullo you two.”

Speak of the devil.

I look up from my shepherd’s pie.  Clark is standing beside our table, looking equal parts pissed and hurt.  I merely look at him, but James speaks up, “Need something, Clark?”

A chill runs down my spine when I notice the look Clark gives James.  What the hell? 

“I thought you were my friend,” Clarks accuses James.

“I thought you were trying to be a better person,” James fires back.

I feel as if I should say something, but I’ve not a clue as to what I should say.

“I am trying.”

“It doesn’t look like it.”

Clark makes an impatient noise.  “Perhaps it would be easier if you wouldn’t meddle.”

James rolls his eyes.  “How am I meddling?”

Clark gestures toward me.  “You’re out on a date with Shannon when you know I have feelings for her.”

So, it is a date.

“It’s not a date,” James says.

Perhaps it isn’t a date.

“It looks like it,” Clark retorts.

“Fred was supposed to come, but he’s spending the day with Camille.”

“Sure.”

“It isn’t a date,” James’ voice is firm.

That stings a little, I’m not going to lie.

I stand, throwing some money on the table to cover my food.  I don’t want to be caught between two friends.  I don’t want to listen to this.  I don’t want to be around Clark any longer than I have to be.  “I’m going to head back to the castle,” I tell James.  I smile.  “I’ll see you there.”

Clark stands in my path.  “Can we talk?”

“No,” James and I both say in unison.

I make eye contact with James.  He looks upset. 

“Clark, I don’t have time for this,” I inform him.

“But you have time to be with him?”

“He didn’t go on a date with me and shag my best friend, so yeah, I have time to be with him.”

Clark looks as if I slapped him.  Perhaps I should have. 

James stands, picks my money up and shoves it into my hands before placing enough money to cover the bill and tip on the table.  He stands beside me, forcing Clark to step back.  “We’re gonna go, Clark.”

We push by Clark and exit The Three Broomsticks.  The cold air is welcome, better comparable to being near Clark.  “Why does he continue to try?” I ask James.

James shrugs.  “I think it’s because you don’t kiss his arse, like other girls have done in the past.”

The unspoken ‘it’s different with you’ hangs in the air.

I don’t care if it’s different. 

“I wish he would stop.”

“He will.”

“When?”

James gives me a side glance.  “I’m going to speak to him.  Fred is as well.  It’ll be taken care of.”

“Thank goodness.”

I can’t wait to make it to the castle.  I need a cup of hot chocolate from the kitchens and a quiet corner to sneak away to.  I need to recharge.  I wonder what James will do the rest of the day.  I glance at him.  His eyebrows are furrowed and he seems to be deep in thought.  I have it on the tip of my tongue to ask him to spend the rest of the day with me, but decide not to ask.  I don’t want to weird him out in any way.

When we finally make it to the castle, James stops and turns to me.  “I think I’ve found another way to make him stop.”

There’s a glint in his eyes…I’m immediately suspicious.  “And?  What is it?”

He suddenly looks unsure of himself.  “Hear me out.”

How bad can it be?

“What is it, James?”

“Be my girlfriend.”


	10. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That catches my attention. “People other than Clark think we’re dating?”  
> He nods. “Plenty do.”

“Pardon?”

“Be my girlfriend.”

I still don’t think I’m hearing him correctly.

“I don’t understand.”

James sighs.  “Not literally.”  He furrows his eyebrows.  “If we act as if we’re dating, it’ll give Clark reason to stop.”

“My saying no should be reason enough.”  Fake date?  Has he not heard of rom-coms and the traditional trope of fake-dating-turning-into-real-dating? 

Truth is, I’m still having trouble breathing.  I heard ‘be my girlfriend’ and started having heart palpitations.  And, for some reason, swallowing the disappointment after hearing ‘not literally’ hurt.  I don’t have the time to overthink now, however, as James is speaking and I realize I should probably be listening.

“ – he would get the picture.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

James gives me a concerned look.  “It should be reason enough, yes, but Clark is a narcissist and can’t handle rejection.  If he sees us together, it will push him into accepting your rejection.”

“And when we break up?  What happens then?”

He winces.  “I didn’t think that far.”

I lick my lips, considering.  We could do it, of course, and perhaps it might give Clark the push to accept my rejection.  We could do it and it might also pull him in more, especially since he and James are – were, I dunno - close friends.  I don’t want to cause any more of a rift between them, all though I suspect the rift was already there.

Also, the idea of fake-dating James simply terrifies the hell out of me.

Would it involve snogging?  Dates?  Hand-holding?  Sweet pleasantries? 

“He does already think we’re dating,” I point out. 

Why not, then?

“What do you think, then?” James asks.

“I think…if we’re going to do it, we need a game plan.”

“I didn’t think of that,” he admits, but nods.  “Okay, wanna go somewhere more discreet?”

Oh yeah, the opening to the castle probably isn’t the best place to discuss a semi-devious plan.

We go to the student commons, picking a nice spot in a far corner to talk.  We sit together on a sofa, with me being hyper aware of how close we are.

“Game plan,” James starts.  “We need to set boundaries?  Er, rules?”

I nod.  “Yes, and we need to discuss likely scenarios that are going to happen.”

He nods.  “Let’s get this out of the way – snogging.  Yay or nay?”

I freeze.  The way he put it so bluntly – I wasn’t expecting it, though I should have.  I can feel the heat move to my face.  Bloody hell.  “I – uh, yay in public?  For appearances sake?”

“Are we talking making out or a peck?”  He grins.

“Why would we ever need to make out in public?”

He shrugs, the glint doesn’t leave his eyes.  “You never know when the opportunity may arise.”

I roll my eyes.  “Now that that’s out of the way – affection.  What’s allowed?”

“You’re the woman here, you decide.”

“I hardly have the complete say.”

“You do now.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Look, we’re having our first couple fight.”

“Affection, James.”

He laughs.  “All right, then, I think hand-holding is hardly a sin.  And small things like stroking your hair or your cheek, those should be okay.  Hugging as well.”

“That’s acceptable.  What do we do if someone asks how long we’ve been together?”

“Hmm, we’ve been skirting around it for weeks but we just recently started dating.  A specific date isn’t needed.  Some people already think we’re dating, so it’s believable.”

That catches my attention.  “People other than Clark think we’re dating?”

He nods.  “Plenty do.”

I had no clue.  Then again, I’m not involved in the rumor mill and until this year I was never subjected to a rumor.  At least this rumor is flattering.  Many people have wanted to date him throughout the years, but he has remained single with the occasional fling.  Some thought him a commitment phobe.

I suppose we’re about to prove them wrong.

“All right, well, is there anything else?” James asks.

I shrug.  “I don’t think so?  I can’t think of anything.”  Wait.  “When does this begin?”

He shrugs.  “Now?”

My heart begins to race.  “So, we’re dating.  Fake-dating.”

“Yep.”

“Sweet Merlin.”

He feigns offense.  “Am I that terrible-looking?”

“Oh, the absolute worst.”

“Ah, my heart.  You’re breaking it.”

I roll my eyes and stand.  “We’re fake-dating.”  I can’t believe it.  I’m in the middle of a rom-com.

James stands as well, grins.  “Yep.  You already said that.  Shall I escort you to the common room?”

I swallow and nod.  When he holds an open palm out to me, it takes me a second to realize what he’s doing.  Hesitantly, I thread my fingers through his.  His hands are warm, soft, and my palm fits perfectly against his.  I glance at him to see that he’s grinning, pleased with himself.  He gives my hand a squeeze before we take off.

I’m hyper aware of everyone as we walk to the Gryffindor common room.  I feel as if all eyes are on us – it’s irrational and hardly true, but I still feel watched.  We’re silent; thank Merlin, because I’m not certain that I could speak sensibly right now.  As a matter of fact, I’m not certain that I’m capable of stringing together a sentence at all at the moment.  A few people nod their hellos to James as they walk past us. 

When we enter the common room, my eyes immediately land upon Fred.  He looks at our intertwined hands and whistles.  Then he says, “It’s about damn time.  I was wondering when you two would get your shit together.”

I can only blink.  I look at James.  He looks as shocked as I am – and embarrassed?  His cheeks are red.  I think he’s incapable of speech this time.

“Uh, thanks,” I tell Fred.  “How was your date with Camille?”

“Oh, I didn’t spend time with her today.  We broke up.”

He sounds so blasé about it, as if he’s discussing the weather. 

“I’m sorry?” I offer.

“No worries.  It was gonna happen eventually.  She was too clingy.”

She didn’t appear clingy at all to me; they were hardly together.

“Why didn’t you hang with us, then?” James asks, removing his hand from mine.  My hand feels cold now.  He moves to sit on a sofa and I follow suit. 

“I wanted to give you two the chance to open your bloody eyes.”  He sounds proud of myself.  “And it worked.”

So, I guess I don’t have to ask James if anyone knew of his grand plan.  If he were going to tell anyone, it would have been Fred.

“Yeah,” James says, “thanks, mate.”

Fred sits on a chair.  “Anytime.  So, does Clark know yet?”

“I…uh, basically?” I attempt to answer.

“He suspects,” James supplies.

Fred nods.  “Uh-huh.”

I stand.  “I’m going to head up and, um, do some homework.  I’ll see you two at dinner?”

Bollocks, I probably should have addressed James.  Or should I have?  I’ve never been a girlfriend before.  Double bollocks.

James stands.  “Yeah, sure, love.”  He plants a kiss on my cheek.  “See you then.”

He takes his seat again, leaving me standing like an idiot for a few seconds.  Did that really just happen?  Not only was I called ‘love’, but I was kissed on the cheek.  His lips felt really nice, soft.  I wouldn’t mind it happening again. 

Without another word, I scurry upstairs.

…

I find Di holed up in a corner in the library.  I know we’re on bad terms at the moment, but I want to fix it.  I need my best friend.  Especially after agreeing to fake-date James.  He and I didn’t decide on if we were telling anyone, but I’m going to assume this is only between us; he didn’t tell Fred, after all.  So I’m not telling Di.

“Hey there,” I greet her, taking the empty seat across from her.

She looks surprised to see me.  “Hey, Shan.  How’s it?”

“Brilliant.”  I shift.  “I have some news.”

She notices the tone of my voice, puts her quill down.  “Spill.”

“I’m dating James.”

“Oh.  Is that it?”

I blink.  “What do you mean?  That’s big news.”

She snorts.  “Shan, it isn’t shocking.  Everyone sees you two in class and outside of class.”

What is everyone seeing that I don’t see? 

“Oh.  I figured it would be.”

She shakes her head.  “Nope, but I am happy for you.  He does make you happy, doesn’t he?”

“Yes,” I say without a second thought.  He truly does, just – not in the way she’s thinking.  Or is it?

“And now Clark will stay away.  He’s such a git.”

I can’t help myself when I say, “You slept with him, though.”

She groans.  “Not my finest moment.”

“Moments.”

“Yeah.”

Our silence is an uncomfortable one.  I want to say so many things to her.  I want to be angry with her.  I want to make certain she knows that she has hurt me, but I find that I cannot.  A person’s actions speaks a lot of their character, yes, but Di has apologized – and she acted apologetic.  And I just want my bloody friend back.  I probably shouldn’t forgive her so easily simply for the sake of having a friend again, but I want to.

“Di, can you…look, I want my best friend back.”

“Me too,” she says softly.

“But we can’t be – be friends if you insist on keeping secrets from me.”

She bites her bottom lip.  “You don’t need to know everything, Shan.”

“If it affects me, I do.”

“Not everything I hide from you affects you.”

Am I asking too much?  I don’t need to know everything, but I would like to know a lot.  That’s what friends are for.

“Perhaps, but it’s hardly fair to expect me to tell you things if you insist on hiding things from me.”

“I don’t expect you to do that, Shan.”  Her voice is soft, sad.

“Oh.”

Has our friendship been a sham, then?  I’ve always felt as if I could tell her anything and she would understand, she would keep it secret.  The fact that she might not feel the same about me is a slap in the face – when one has a friend, they expect to be on level ground.  Apparently, Di and I have not been on level ground, perhaps we never were.  It stings. 

I stand.  I can’t seem to find any more words to say so I simply turn and leave.  I hear Di call my name behind me but I don’t look back.  It feels as if a piece of my heart is being left behind.

…

“I hear that you and James are public now.”

Clark’s voice greets me as I enter the common room and I sigh.  My walk from the library was a sad and lonely one, with me being alone with my thoughts, thoughts of how I just lost my best friend.  It wasn’t an official break, but it felt like one. 

“We are, Clark,” I confirm his words, my voice weary. 

“I suppose congratulations are in order.”

He looks anything but ready to celebrate.  As a matter of fact, he looks pissed.

Well, that can certainly make two of us.  If he wants to have a row, we can.

“Save them for the wedding reception,” I snap.

He actually looks surprised.  Good. 

“If you wanted him all along, you could have said something.”

“What?  And ruin my chance to get by you?  I could never.”

“You know, I’m trying to have an adult conversation with you, but if you want to act like a bloody child have at it.”

That’s it.

“Fuck off, Clark,” I inform him.  “Take your patronizing tone and words and shove them up your arse.  Or tell someone who might give a bloody damn, because I don’t.”

“What the hell has gotten into you?”

“Nothing.”  I roll my eyes.

“Yeah, something has.  James has influenced you.”

“No, my tolerance for bullshit has lowered.”

“Whatever, Shannon.”

I move to walk to the dorm but he stops me.  “ _Did_ you want him all along?”

I groan.  “I wanted you until you mucked it up.  Now, can we please move past this and live our bloody lives?”

Clark looks deep in thought.  I want to warn him that thinking too hard might hurt his brain but I stop myself.  I’ve already sworn at him, I should take it easy on him.  Until he gives me reason not to, that is.

“Has Di talked to you?” he finally asks.

“Uh, about what?”

“So, you don’t know.”

“Know what?”

“If she’s pregnant or not.”

I feel weak all of a sudden.

Di – pregnant?

The color drains from my face.  “No, I haven’t a clue.”

“I figured she would have told you.” 

I feel as if he’s pleased knowing that she didn’t.  Especially now that I’m caught off-guard in front of him.

“She didn’t.”  I try to gain my composure.  “It’s hardly my business.”

On shaky legs, I walk to my room.

…

I feel ill when I enter Life Studies.  Since Clark dropped the bomb about Di, I’ve done nothing but worry.  What if she is pregnant?  Does she feel alone?  Is that why she has acted so distant to me?  What is she going to do?  Does the school know?

“Oi, are you all right?” James asks me, placing a hand on my back.

I nod.  “I have something to tell you.”  I remember that Di and Clark sit behind us.  “I’ll tell you after class.”

He nods.  “All right.  You look faint, though.  D’you want to go to the infirmary?”

I shake my head.  “It’s nerves.”

“About what you want to tell me?”

I nod.

“All right.  Just,” he looks genuinely concerned, “take it easy.  Take deep breaths.  Try to calm your mind, yeah?”

“I’ll try.”

I feel the presence of Di when she enters and sits behind us.  I desperately want to turn around and see if she’s okay.  But I don’t.  I don’t have that right – at least, not right now.  Clark follows soon after.  I wonder if they’ve spoken?  Is she pregnant?  I try to listen to see if they’re speaking behind us, but they’re both silent.  Dammit.

Professor Higgings calls attention.  “Welcome back, everyone.”  There’s a glint in her eyes.  James and I both notice it; we give each other alarmed glances.  This cannot be good.  “Today, some of you will experience a bit of a shake-up.” 

I hear Di mutter, “As if I need that.”

I can’t help but to agree.

“Now, what is about to happen will come as a shock, which is the case occasionally in the real world.  There’s truly not much more I can say until you all are aware of the change.”  She smiles.  “Open your notebooks.”

I hesitate before opening mine, my eyes locking with James.

“It can’t be that bad,” he says.

“Don’t jinx it.”

I glance at my notebook and I gasp. 

Three words appear on the piece of parchment:

“Congratulations, you’re pregnant.”


End file.
